Re: The Ties that Bind
by Ray of Starlight
Summary: Reimagining of the 2007-2008 story. As a CSI Peyton knew how to process evidence, follow the clues and catch the bad guy, but when a kickass Peterbilt is thrown into the mix she finds herself biting off more than she can chew. Movieverse. Rated for language. IN-PROGRESS.
1. Another Night in Vegas

A/N: So here it is. The prologue of _Re: The Ties that Bind_. This chapter was originally 3 pages, now it's 4, but not that much is different about it in content. It was still fun comparing the two side by side. I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are my own.

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Prologue  
Another Night in Vegas

Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the parking lot. There was a thick smell of copper and death in the desert night air and a growing excited thrill in her gut she often got when the chase began and she thought, _yep, this is my job._

The long haired blond standing on the other side of the crime scene tape was Peyton Callaghan. With a silver case in her hand, she stared at the body of Hector Almaraz with large brown eyes. The victim lay on his back in a pool of his own blood. He was thirty-one years old, Hispanic, and resident of the vibrant city of Las Vegas, Nevada. He was pronounced dead at the scene by dispatch. Apparent cause of death was multiple stab wounds to the torso with a serrated blade left a few feet from the body, but the C.O.D. wouldn't be officially disclosed until the corner arrived.

Ducking under the crime scene tape, she headed for the body, her small heeled boots clicking against the concrete, not deterred by the sight or smell of blood or the fact that the poor soul had been stabbed so many times that some of the internal bits were no longer inside or in their proper anatomical position. In not so many words, the body was a mess.

Setting her case down, she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, and she got to work.

Hazel eyes were dull and vacant of life, staring endlessly into the starry night sky. The petechial hemorrhaging in his eyes suggested suffocation, perhaps from drowning in his own blood. The amount of said blood indicated that this wasn't a body dump. There was smearing in the blood which showed that there had been a struggle. There was still sweat on his upper lip. His body was still a little warm even with the cold night air.

When the coroner arrived and took liver temp he pronounced the time of death to be around an hour or two ago so evidence would be fresh. Preliminary observations suggested two assailants, one holding the victim down while the other preformed the stabbing.

Looking around, she observed her surroundings like a field CSI should. She was greeted by the Las Vegas desert, an empty convenience store with one clerk, currently being questioned, and a kick-ass looking Peterbilt semi truck with custom painted flames, sitting about forty feet from the body.

The teenage boy working in the store claimed to have not seen or heard anything, which was pretty conclusive since the boy's iPod was cranked to deafening levels of Slipknot and Slayer. Other supportive facts included that he had no blood on him and that he looked ready to wet himself upon hearing that there was a murder in the parking lot.

The 911 had come in anonymously. The caller had been male, deep voice, assumedly between the ages of thirty to forty. Anonymous tips were always suspicious and the caller was always the first suspect. In the cases in which the anonymous caller was the perpetrator, the call was a sign of remorse. The voice had been rather scratchy, almost electronic sounding, from what she heard from the recording. But whoever made that call had to have used a disposable cell phone, because the number had not been traceable.

Sighing, she knelt down to examine the body more closely as the coroner backed up his bag and got out of the way.

"Whatcha got?"

Peyton looked over her shoulder as her supervisor strode forward, ducking under the crime scene tape, holding a case similar to her own, but bore many more scuff marks to its surface. Jeffery Ellis, the acting supervisor of the graveyard shift, was in his late fifties, his hair peppered gray. His face was scruffy with age and experience and perpetual five o'clock shadow, but had a kind and gentle demeanor. Just by looking into his gray-blue eyes one knew that they he was nothing short of a genius in his own right both scientifically and philosophically.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not unkindly.

"There was a 419 at the Bellagio. I left it to Grant and Carter and decided to see how you were doing," he replied.

Peyton became all business. "Victim's name is Hector Almaraz, approximately thirty-one years old. There are extensive stab wounds covering the torso and lividity is fixed so this is the primary crime scene. Time of death was a couple hours ago. Cash and ID left on him suggests that this wasn't a mugging gone wrong and the nice looking Rolex affirms." She looked up at her boss and pointed at the victim's hands. "Dirty fingernails are a good start," she said. "Maybe he scratched one of his killers."

"Killers?" Jeffery asked.

With a gloved hand she pulled back the man's jacket sleeve revealing a heavily bruised wrist. "Position of the body and bruising of the wrists," she indicated. "Someone held him down while the other one stabbed him to death. Anonymous caller indicated two assailants."

"Crime of passion," Jeffery mused. "Clearly, someone wanted this man to suffer."

"Given the condition he's in, I'd say so."

Jeffery lifted the blood-matted jean jacket away from the body and cringed a little at the carnage. Peyton quickly jotted notes and snapped a few pictures. "He has hardly any defensive wounds," Jeffery observed. "Check it out."

Sure enough there were only one or two deep gorges on the man's hands in all. Whoever killed him must have been people he trusted because a lack of defensive wounds suggests that he was taken by surprise. The man probably had no chance once they had him on the ground. The position of the body, elbows bent, and hands on either side of his head corroborated the anonymous caller's tip about two assailants and the blood void on the victim's body also indicated that the stabber had actually sat on top of the man to help hold him down.

"We won't know how many times he was stabbed until he's cleaned up," Peyton said. "I already tried counting, but I can tell you that this was serious overkill. I think he might have been dead already before the stabbing even ended."

"I can't believe no one heard this guy scream or anything," Jeffery said. "We're not that far outside of Clark County."

Peyton wordlessly pointed her flashlight at the victim's mouth. "Blood void around the mouth, cotton fibers," she said. Jeffery took the camera Peyton have been using and snapped a photo. Peyton then withdrew a pair of tweezers and removed a fiber from the corner of the victim's mouth. "He could've been muffled."

"Any suspects yet?" Jeffery asked.

"Just the caller but we can't get a trace."

"What about the store? Was anyone in there?"

"Just a kid, but he didn't hear anything. Kelly is with him now," the blond replied. "She looked for blood on his clothes, under his fingernails, and hands, but he was clean. He still gave us a DNA sample voluntarily."

"Hmm," was the reply, Jeffery's attention drawn elsewhere. "Look at this."

Leaning closer to the body, he lifted a strand of long blond hair from the victim's shirt. The skin tag at the end indicated that the hair had been pulled out.

"Our guy's a brunet," Jeffery said.

"The caller said one male, one female."

"Bag it."

They stuck around the crime scene into the early morning, even when the body had been removed. Every so often, Peyton found herself looking up at the truck in the dark corner of the parking lot. No one would just abandon a truck that good looking alone in a city with the fastest growing crime rate in the country. The whole thing was pure custom and the owner must've sold his soul for it, yet no one had come to claim it.

"Hey, Tony," Peyton called.

A heavy set man in a suit with a gold badge on his chest turned towards her. Tony Miller was the leading detective in homicide, but spent a lot of time at the lab with them. In his mid-fifties, his hair line was receding and his eyes and mouth were starting to wrinkle. He was a good man and good cop, married to the job that resulted in his subsequent divorce. But he had two kids, both in college now, so retiring from the force was not in the immediate future.

He stepped up next to her before the truck eying it as suspiciously as she did. "What's up?"

"Why don't you run the plates on this guy," she suggested. "It's been sitting here for hours and no one's come around asking for it yet."

"I'll get on it," he said lifting his phone to his ear. "Yeah, we got an abandoned semi at Clark's Party Store. Nevada plate. Number is OPR 1M31. Model? Umm…"

"Petebilt," Peyton provided. "I'm thinking 379, but don't quote me on that."

Miller gave her a strange look. "Umm, it's a Peterbilt semi, possible model number 379, blue with custom flames and rims. Broaden the search from that. Yeah, call me when you get it. Right." He snapped his phone shut. "They said it'd be a few minutes."

"This has got to be the most badass truck I've ever seen," she stated, venturing closer and staring up at it appraisingly.

"What do you know about trucks?"

"My dad," she replied. "He drove them. He had a Peterbilt semi too."

They only had to wait a little while for Miller's call to come in. Peyton watched his expression falter from calm and collected to confused and suspicious. She waited patiently for him to end the call, but already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"The license number doesn't exist in the state of Nevada," he said. "They'll do a county wide search."

Peyton nodded slowly as she faced the truck again. She stepped towards the driver's side and shined her flashlight on door. There was a smear of blood, but a still pretty distinctive partial finger print on the handle.

"Jeffery!" she called.

He boss rushed over and examined the spot she was illuminating with her flashlight. "Well, _hello_ , Dolly."

"I bet this is an unregistered truck. Plate's fake," she hopped up and peered through the window. "The interior looks custom, too, so I'll have trace look into it when we get this back to the lab."

"I see," Jeffery said. "Can you get a print off that?"

"I'm sure as hell gonna try," she responded. "It's smeared a little, but I think there will be enough to at least get a partial." She looked over at Miller. "Can you get us a tow-truck? We're going to have to take the big guy with us."

Miller already had his phone to his ear. "On it."

Not long after that, Peyton was watching the truck get hauled away. The body of Hector Almaraz was on its way to the autopsy table and the truck was on its way to the lab's auto garage. Most of her interest, however, was in the truck; an unregistered truck in the middle of nowhere, without a driver, looking mighty fine and expensive with a bloody, smeared fingerprint on the handle. She hadn't even submitted the blood to DNA testing, but she was riding on it belonging to one of the killers. Maybe they locked themselves out and were forced to abandon it. From where she stood, the truck could be a key piece of evidence if it somehow belonged to the victim, the perpetrators, or even the anonymous caller.

Jeffery left soon after the truck to follow up with the autopsy, but Kelly was making her way towards Peyton carrying her crime kit, curly brown hair bouncing with every step but remaining perfectly in place.

"What do you think?" she asked, her voice thick with a southern accent.

"That Hector Almaraz pissed off the wrong people. This was personal," Peyton supplied. "Let's get a hold of the victim's bank records. Check for any recent withdraw or iffy transactions. And let's checked out where he worked. Maybe he had a beef with someone there."

"What about the family?" Kelly asked.

"What about them?"

"They need to be notified."

Peyton shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Get Miller to pick them up. Maybe the wife knows something."

"Will you question them?"

Peyton rolled her eyes. "Hell, no. I don't need to deal with a weepy widow. You do it."

Kelly fumed angrily and shoved a plastic bag into the other woman's hands. "You don't have a sensitive bone in your body, do you?"

Peyton frowned, clearly offended, as she watched Kelly stomp off towards the car. She could to be sensitive…if she wanted to be. She was just doing her job and it was true. Peyton didn't handle emotional people very well.

She looked at the bag containing a brown leather wallet. She took it out of the bag and opened it. Her expression faltered. The first picture she saw was a family portrait of the victim, his wife, and three children, all girls and all under the age of ten, one of which was still an infant. Her finger traced the infant's cheek in the photo.

She sighed through her nose and looked down at the bloodstained concrete, void of a body, as she snapped the wallet closed. Placing the wallet back in the evidence bag, she picked up her case and bypassed the crime scene tape and headed for the car, where Kelly waited, arms crossed as she sat in passenger seat, looking anywhere but at her. While Kelly may think she was insensitive, she couldn't allow herself to make every case personal. No one could survive this job if they did.

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A/N: There you have it. I will try to updated regularly. Compare it to the original and let me know what you think!

Please Review!

-Ray

5/3/15


	2. A Day in the Life of a CSI

A/N: Happy Mother's Day! :)

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1\. A Day in the Life of a CSI

Walking down the hall of the crime lab, making her way quickly towards the DNA lab, she ignored that backward glances and scoffs in her direction. Pushing through the door on her right she crossed the room to a young man sitting at a desk, dressed in a lab coat with his nose down a microscope.

"You got my results yet?" she asked.

The tech looked up, a pointedly annoyed expression on his face as he huffed at her. "You know, Peyton," he began, "a lot of people are _courteous_ and _amiable_ when they come to see me. They say, 'Hey, Allen, how's it hanging?' or 'What's up, Allen? How's your day going so far?' Some even try small talk, but not _you_ , Ms. Callaghan. No, _you_ are strictly business. And you're rude about it."

Peyton blatantly rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not here for small talk, but since you do seem so offended how about this?" She plastered a wide-eyed, bright smile. "Hey, Allen, how's it hanging? How's your day going so far?"

Allen pouted. "Shut up."

Peyton grinned and walked around the table to stand beside him. "You asked for it. Now can you _please_ tell me what you got for me?"

"Who says I have anything for you?" Allen teased, leaning back in his chair, fingers locked behind his head.

Peyton slammed her hand down on a brown folder. "What is this?" Flipping open the folder she gasped mockingly. "Well, I dare say that this is my case file. And, goodness, gracious me, are those the DNA results I have been desperately awaiting? Oh, what a happy day it is!"

Allen frowned at her irritably. "Okay, okay I get it."

"Who was complaining that I wasn't amiable?"

"I take it back."

Peyton looked expectedly. "Well?"

With a push of his foot against the table, Allen rolled back in his chair. "Stick your nose down the scope. The sample's from the door handle."

Peyton did as she was instructed and frowned. Scattered throughout the blood sample were tiny, glowing blue specks. "What's with the blue specks?"

"Pyocyanin."

"…Huh?"

"It's a pigment excreted from Pseudomonas aeruginosa. It's a bacteria occasionally found in the blood stream."

"And that gives me what exactly?"

"The blood in the scope is not your victim's."

Peyton looked up at him, her nose scrunched up. "So the murder has funky blue blood?"

"If the blood does indeed belong to the killer then I'm going to need a sample and the murder weapon."

"Right," she agreed. "It's possible that he got a little carried away. Maybe he cut himself."

"It's actually 'maybe she cut herself.' DNA came back female."

Peyton nodded acceptingly. "The blonde hair?"

"Female. Makes sense," Allen added. "Hector Almaraz was a big guy. It'd be hard for a man to hold his arms down, harder for a woman. Guy holds him down," Allen pantomimed a stabbing action, "woman does the stabbing."

"It could've been two women."

"…That too."

"How about the print that came off the door? Was it any good?"

"I could only get a partial," the tech replied, "but it's good enough to run through AFIS."

"Thanks, Allen."

"Yeah, yeah," he said casually with a proud smile. "And after all I've done, you'll still come in treating me like your lackey. You know, you're lucky that I like you."

"Why? Cause most of the other techs don't?" Peyton asked without missing a beat.

Allen spluttered uncomfortably.

"Don't worry about it, Allen. I know. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I got here on my own. I earned this job."

"I know," Allen said, his tone serious. "I believe that, but some just don't."

Peyton rubbed her eyes. "Whatever. Look," she sighed, "I'm going to head for the garage. I need to check out that truck."

"What do you expect to find?"

"My job wouldn't be half as exciting as it is if I actually knew what I was looking for." She held up the file. "Thanks again. I'll fill Jeffery in when I see him."

Allen nodded accepting and moved on to the next case file.

Peyton left the room and as soon as she was sure she was out of Allen's eye sight, allowed her shoulders to sag heavily. Yes, she was totally aware of how many lab techs disliked her. From day one she had been at the top of her game. She toke her field exam right out of college and passed with flying colors. She knew that she was a little standoffish, but it wasn't like she was trying to be mean. Jeffery had hand picked her to be on his team, giving their superiors excellent recommendations, but no matter how much he insisted that it had nothing to do with being family, that's the idea everyone jumped to.

Many of the lab's employees considered her arrogant, self-centered, and always wanting to be in the lime light. Of course all of these were untrue. She was just very career orientated. Despite the glares, the passive-aggressive comments in passing, and the shady talks behind her back Peyton figured it could have always been a lot worse. They could be suggesting that she was actually sleeping with Jeffery just to get ahead despite the fact that he was her dead father's best friend and godfather.

Heading for the garages where the truck was being stored, she grabbed her kit from the evidence room on the way. She didn't catch anyone's eye as she made her way through the building, but she refused to be the one who averted their gaze.

"Where are you off to?" Miller asked, falling into step beside her.

"Garage," she replied. "I'm going to see what I can get out of the truck. Wanna tag along?"

"Would if I could," he said. "I'm supposed to meet up with Jeff. I'm going to question the family and Jeff wants to observe."

Peyton recalled the family photo in the victim's wallet. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but waved it off as the burrito she ate for lunch. So she grinned and said, "He's a forensic psychologist now too you know. He could start interrogating if he wanted to."

"Yeah, well, let's leave that part to me. I'd still like to have a job," Miller joked. "The wife's clean. She had the kids as her sister's at the time of the murder. But she did point us towards the victim's half-brother. Apparently they had a pretty nasty fight a couple days before the murder. Mario Almaraz was reported to have said 'I'll gut you like a fish you son of a bitch.' We'll see what we can get out of him."

Peyton shifted on her feet, like she was torn between running and standing her ground. "How was his wife?" Peyton asked hesitantly.

Miller frowned. "How any young wife and mother would be when she found out her husband was brutally stabbed to death. She was hysterical."

Peyton flinched. "Yeah, stupid question."

"But she's keeping it together for the kids' sakes," Milled followed up. "They're probably the only reason.

Peyton face fell sadly, thinking of the kids she saw in the photo, probably asking where their daddy was. She had been there before, looking to her mother for answers but all her questions did was make her mother cry. Hopefully, Mrs. Almaraz wouldn't shut out her kids like she had been shut out all those years ago.

Miller's hand fell on her shoulder. "You alright?"

Peyton started. She hadn't even realized they had stopped walking. "Yeah," she answered quickly.

Miller didn't look like he believed her. "Peyton, I know how similar this is."

"It's completely different," Peyton quickly remanded. She flinched at how loudly she snapped at the older man. "Sorry. Long night."

Miller made of show of smiling tiredly as he stretched his arms over his head. "I'll say,"

Peyton quietly breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that he was letting her escape the conversation with the change of topic.

"Sorry had had to cut out of there so fast after the truck was towed," he continued, like the previous awkwardness hadn't occurred. "I was tying up some lose ends with the meth lab bust outside of Clark County."

"Sounds like fun," she said.

"Yeah…" Miller grinned dark. "I love it when they try to run."

"Well, good luck with the brother."

"Have fun with the truck. Jeff says your father was a big car man."

"Yep. He restored a '67 Chevy Chevelle and a '71 Plymouth Hemi Cuda." She smiled fondly. "He even showed me a thing or two on our cars when I was a kid."

Miller released a lost whistle. "All that on a trucker's salary?"

"He owned a garage too," Peyton explained. "When he wasn't on the road he was working in there. It took him a while but he managed to restore both cars. He sold the Chevelle, but he couldn't part with the Cuda. It's still sitting in my mom's garage."

Despite the twinge in her chest it still gave her, talking about her father in the good days always brought a smile to her face. She eventually watched Miller walk away until he disappeared around the corner, off to meet up with Jeffery. Jeffery had been her father for years, long before he met her mother. Besides being her godfather, Jeffery had been her father's best man at the wedding. Miller had only learned of the man through stories given that he was the leading detective in Michael Callaghan's murder fifteen years ago. She had only been eleven.

Her cell phone went off. Pulling it from the holster clipped to her belt, she checked the caller ID and resisted the urge to stomp her feet like a teenager before flipping it open and holding it to her ear. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey!" a voice chimed brightly. "How are you today?"

"Fine. You?"

"Oh, you know me," she sighed pathetically. "You don't come around much anymore."

"Work's keeping me busy."

"Jeffery tells me that you haven't taken your vacation yet. The one you were planning on taking two months ago. Why's that?"

"I really don't need it right now," she responded with a casual shrug. "I'm saving it."

"Oh? For what?"

"…For when I need it."

"You just got out of the hospital. Wouldn't that be the perfect time to take a vacation."

Peyton closed her eyes and silently cursed Jeffery to Hades. "Mom, I'm okay."

"Jeffery told me all about it Peyton Marie so don't you lie to me."

Peyton felt a swell of dread in her stomach. "He did?"

"Of course! Doesn't a mother have a right to know when he daughter works herself practically to death, passes out, and gets admitted to the hospital? Did you really think that Jeffery would keep that from me?"

Peyton sighed, relieved. "No, he wouldn't. But I'm okay, Mom, really. I was fighting a stomach bug to. I'm taking it easy now."

Her mother hummed skeptically. "You can take it easier on vacation."

"Not right now, Mom, but soon. I promise. Listen, I really have to go."

"Oh, I see," the woman said, once again playing up the lonely mother card. "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight? Around 6:30? I'm making pork tenderloin."

"I don't think so, Mom," Peyton said with genuine regret. "Dinner would be great, but we just got a case last night and I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of weeks."

"I'm sure Jeffery would let you come by for dinner," the woman protested exasperatedly into the phone.

"I can't, Mom," she said again. "I'm sorry."

"I made pineapple upside-down cake for dessert."

"…6:30?"

"Yep."

"I'll be there."

"Oh, wonderful!" her mother squealed in obvious delight. "We'll see you then! I'm sure your grandfather will be happy to see you."

"Okay, bye" Peyton said, feeling like a sucker. She snapped her phone shut. "Damn."

She pushed the phone back into its holster just as she pushed the door open into the garage. The big-rig her father would have drooled over flash stylishly when she turned the overhead lights on. As a truck drive and a handyman, Mike Callaghan knew all there was to know about automobile engines. After it had been confirm that this semi was indeed a Peterbilt 379, Peyton was hesitant given that she would probably have to strip the beauty to its nuts and bolts. Her father had driven a Peterbilt when she was a child. Sometimes he'd even let her tag along on some of his shorter trips during summer vacation from school.

Peyton thought back fondly on the memories of her father while staring up at the big-rig, but was snapped quickly back to reality at the remembrance of her job and what she was here to do. Setting down her case, she pulled on rubber gloved and grabbed her camera. Grabbing the door handle she pulled, but was met with some resistance. Hadn't the door been unlocked before? Frowning, she stepped back and went to grab a long pole with a sharp end used to open locked doors by destroying the lock completely. She moved it into position when the door suddenly popped open.

She laughed. "What? Don't want me to scratch your paint?"

She was met with silence, but it was expected. Blowing off what had just happened as a fluke, she climbed into the truck and scoped out the interior. The driver and passenger seats were white leather with blue cushions. There wasn't a speck of dirt or blood on them, like it had never been sat in before. The back seat was a bench seat of the same color and material and given the placement of the hinges, it apparently folded down into a bed. The steering wheel was solid black like the entire dashboard, minus a few splashes of white and blue. In the center of the steering wheel was a red emblem of a face. It kind of looked like a robot face or something. She took a snap shot of it and moved on.

The glove box was empty. No registration, no license, no anything. She pursed her lips contemplating. What was she supposed to take pictures of if there was nothing to shoot? If this was the suspect's or suspects' truck they must've cleaned it regularly and took everything kept on the inside, but that still didn't explain why the truck wasn't registered.

Jumping out of the truck she shut the door and walked around to the front. Instead of the typical Peterbilt insignia on the top center of the grill, it was the same emblem from the steering wheel. She took another picture, but it sure didn't help in her figuring out what it meant. There was no blood in the interior which left her suspecting that the killer wanted to get in but couldn't. But even so, when she dusted for fingerprints it once against came up spotless.

"Find anything?"

Peyton turned to see Jeffery making his way towards her, holding a file under his arm and his glasses in his other hand.

"Nada," she sighed. "This literally has nothing on it. There's no registration papers or proof of insurance. I can't even get a print."

"Hmm," Jeffery said thoughtfully. "A ghost truck. That sucks."

Peyton scoffed at him. "You think? But I did find something. I just don't know what to make of it." She pointed to the emblem.

Jeffery put on his glasses and stepped up beside her as she pointed to the red insignia on the front of the truck. "Huh," he mused, titling his head to the side. "Wonder what it means. Did you look it up?"

"Not yet," she replied. "I took pictures of it though. There's another one on the steering wheel. I'll get it to Matt and see if he can come up with anything. Maybe it's a gang sign or something."

"What kind gang would use an insignia like that?" Jeffery asked skeptically. "I'm thinking its custom. Perhaps someone has an obsession with robots."

"Maybe."

"There are too many maybes surrounding this case," Jeffery stated. "We need to turn those maybes into some answers."

Peyton nodded agreeably. "How'd the interrogation go? What'd the brother have to say?"

"Not much," Jeffery said, "but he does have an alibi. He seemed very distraught to have heard of his brother's death. It's too bad that the last thing he said to his brother was a threat to kill him."

Peyton shifted her attention back to the truck. She wouldn't admit to her godfather that she was happy she hadn't been there. She didn't like doing interrogations with the victims' families. Every time Jeffery did make her sit in she would only end up sick to her stomach and depressed. It only reminded her of her own loss. She still remembered being eleven and sitting at the kitchen table while Jeffery and her mother talked in the other room and not hearing anything but whispers until her mother started screaming and crying. Miller had been sitting at the kitchen table with her, his face grim. It was the first time Peyton had met the detective.

"You gonna answer me?" Jeffery asked suddenly.

Peyton shook herself back to the present. "Huh? What?" She looked over at him and his concerned expression. "Sorry. What'd you say?"

"Maybe you should take your vacation."

"That's not what you said."

"How do you know it's not what I said when you didn't even hear what I said?"

"Because I just know. Seriously, what did you say?"

"…It's been two months since you said you'd take a vacation and after you were in the hospital…I still haven't gotten the paper work."

"No," she replied firmly. "I don't need a vacation right now. Will you _please_ tell me what you said?"

Jeffery dropped the subject but his heavy gaze was all the indication she needed that they would be revisiting the subject soon. "I wanted to know when you were going to strip the truck."

"I don't want to," she pouted. "It's so pretty."

"Potential for destroying pretty semis comes with the job description," he teased. "I can get someone else to do it if you want."

"No, I wouldn't feel comfortable with someone else doing it," she said resolutely. "I'll do it tomorrow. I'm gonna head over to Mom's for dinner. She made cake."

"Yum."

"Wanna come? She's been saying she hasn't seen you in a while."

"I'm going to have to take a rain check."

"…Please don't make me go alone," she begged.

Jeffery laughed and gave her a one armed hug. "Your mother is not that bad. She just misses you, that's all."

Peyton still pouted but didn't argue. Playing the avoidance game with her mother was taxing on both of them. It wasn't that she hated her mother, but she and the woman never had anything to talk about ever since Peyton was sixteen. They just drifted apart. In Ellen Callaghan's opinion, Peyton was too much like her father and not enough like her. Peyton loved her mother dearly, but Peyton didn't think that that was a bad thing.

"I'm going to process the victim's clothing," Jeffery said. "I'll see if I can find some blue in the blood."

"You checked in with Allen?"

"He was very eager to tell me," Jeffery chuckled. "He probably thinks I'm gonna get in a good word for him for a raise."

"Hey, it's a dream."

"Oh, how I do relish in being a dream crusher."

"Okay," Peyton laughed. "I'm going to head out. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tell your mother I said hello."

"Will do."

* * *

Peyton would soon forget all about the mysterious semi the moment she stepped into her mother's house and smelt the deliciousness that was her mother's cooking. Almost immediately, she was assaulted by a small black and white Shih Tzu named Rocky. The little dog was wagging his tail so hard he kept on losing his balance. Rocky was a friendly, affectionate dog and loved company, jumping at the chance for attention. Out of habit, she bent down and picked him up, to which he rewarded her with lots of welcoming licks and snuggles.

"Mom?" she called.

"In the kitchen!"

"Should've guessed," Peyton muttered.

Ever since she was little Peyton's mother always spent her time in the kitchen cooking and baking, not because she felt like it was her roll in a household, but because she truly enjoyed it. There were stacks of cook books all over the kitchen. Ellen also liked to take cooking classes for more exotic foods and always used Peyton and her husband in her experiments. It wasn't a bad thing. Because of it, there really wasn't much that Peyton didn't like. She liked to think she was food cultured.

Upon entering the kitchen, the first think she saw, besides her hustling mother, was her divine pineapple upside-down cake, Peyton's ultimate weakness. Already sitting at the kitchen table was an elderly man in his seventies. Her grandfather moved in with his only daughter after his wife passed away five years ago due to a stroke. Setting Rocky down, she walked over to him.

"Hey, Gramps," Peyton greeted, kissing his cheek.

"Oh!" the old man said, looking startled. When he looked up at her he smiled. "Hello, there. And who might you be, dear?"

Peyton felt her heart sink. "Gramps, it's me. Peyton? Your granddaughter?"

The man became excited. "Oh, I have a granddaughter! Who would have thought it?" His smile became sly, his thick eyebrows lowered over dark eyes that glowed mischievously. "You hardly come around anymore I'd might as well have forgotten you. Where you been, brat?"

Peyton gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to slug the man in the shoulder. "That's not funny."

He winked at her. "I thought it was."

"Dinner's just about done," Ellen announced. "I'm trying a new seasoning. Mrs. Graham from across the street says it adds a little more flavor to the meat the my usual seasoning so I thought I'd give it a go, though I don't think it's going to be any better than the old seasoning. I hope it tastes alright. Be sure to let me know what you think. Don't hold back. I can take it. I want your honest opinion."

"Christ Almighty, woman!" Gramps hollered. "It's fine! No one cares about the damn seasoning!" He turned to his granddaughter and leaned in closer. "She's been doing nothing but ranting about the damn seasoning."

"Oh, you be quiet!" Ellen shot back to her father. "I just want dinner to be nice for Peyton."

Peyton frowned. "Why me? It's not my birthday or anything."

"It's just that you don't come by much anymore," she started slicing the meat with a large carving knife. "If she would just take that vacation I'm sure would see her more, though."

The muttered comment was meant to sound rhetorical, but Peyton knew better. Her mother had definitely wanted her to hear it. Sighing, dropped her face into her hands. Well, that wasn't a discrete jab or anything.

Dragging her hands down her face she looked over her shoulder to her mother. "Why do you and Jeffery keep ganging up on me about this whole vacation thing?"

"We just want what's best for you," Ellen replied quickly.

"But I'm fine," Peyton said. "Has anyone besides me ever considered that I don't need a _vacation_ right now?"

"Jeffery has just been saying that things have been rough."

Peyton's attention perked up as she stared at her mother suspiciously. "What did Jeffery say? What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," the woman said. "Well, nothing terrible. Just that things have been rough at the lab and especially since…you know."

Peyton rolled her eyes. "Since me and Carter broke up?"

Ellen faced her daughter and smiled sympathetically. "He was such a good man. The only one you ever brought around and then poof," her fingers exploded in front of her, "he dumps you."

Peyton shifted uncomfortably. "He didn't dump me. It was mutual."

Ellen raised a skeptic brow.

"It was!"

Her mother ignored her protest and brought plates of food to the table. They passed the food out in silence. Peyton silently prayed for her mother to drop the topic of conversation, but as the woman expressed repeatedly, Peyton was not getting any younger, though twenty-six wasn't really something to complain about, and Ellen was already expressing desires for grandchildren. Of course, Ellen would be partially satisfied if Peyton at least got married. It was times like these that Peyton hated not having a sibling, someone else for her mother to hound after.

"So," Ellen began nosily, "how has Carter been lately?"

Peyton tried not to scream. "Fine, I guess." She shrugged. "We really don't talk anymore."

Ellen shook her head sadly. "Such a shame. He was such a fine young man."

"Yeah, okay, we've established that," replied her daughter.

"What went wrong dear? Just tell me," Ellen pressed.

"Mom, please! I don't want to talk about it."

"Leave her alone, Ellen," Gramps intervened. "She doesn't want to talk about it."

Ellen pouted and closed her mouth, but Peyton knew that the conversation wasn't over. She would just wait until her grandfather was not within ear shot and given how bad his hearing was now since he had been a gunny in the Marines he'd only have to be in the other room.

"So other than that how's work?"

Peyton glared at her mother.

"What? I'm not asking about Carter. I'm asking about work."

"I work _with_ Carter."

"Then tell me about the stuff that has nothing to do with him."

"Pansy," Gramps said. "That's what he is. He wouldn't have survived a minute in the jungle. He would have been _dead_."

Peyton tried not to grin at her grandpa as he pushed his peas around his plate. "Work's been okay."

"Catch any murderers?"

"I don't catch anyone," Peyton reminded. "I just follow the evidence _to_ the murderer. Police do the catching."

"And they let you carry a gun?"

"I'm qualified."

Ellen looked unsure. "You know about I feel about guns, Peyton."

"It comes with the job description. Better safe then sorry. I take a weapons qualification test every year. I know how to handle it."

"Jeffery says you're having a rough time at the lab."

"And we're back to that again!" The blond dropped her fork on her plate with a clang. "What _doesn't_ Jeffery tell you?"

"What's going on?"

Peyton leaned back in her seat. "Some kids don't like to play nice."

"Why?" Ellen asked, shocked. "You're a brilliant young woman. Why would—"

"That's just it," Peyton answered. "I'm the youngest on Jeffery's team. I got direct admittance to his team and a lot of people got passed up because of it. Everyone thinks that it's because he's my godfather and I'm his favorite."

"But you are his favorite," Ellen said.

"You know what I mean! Jeffery wouldn't just _let_ me go into the field. I had to work hard to prove to him I was ready. It wasn't as easy as everyone seems to think it was."

"It could be worse," Gramps supplied. "They all could think you were sleeping with him."

Peyton pointed sternly at her grandfather as Ellen frowned distastefully. "And _that_ fact alone gets me through the day. It's nice to know that there is some limit to the rumors that they spread about me."

"Well I think it's absolutely ridiculous," Ellen stated.

"You and me both, but what can I do? I just have to wait for everyone to let it go."

"I sure Jeffery—"

"Jeffery can't take care of all my problems, Mom. I'm twenty-six!"

"I know, but—"

"Nope," Peyton denied. "I came here to get away fro work. Let's talk about something else."

There was silence around the table, except for Rocky panting at Peyton's feet.

"Well," Gramps started, "Nancy Rogers died yesterday."

"Dad," Ellen said exasperatedly, "I don't think that's what Peyton had in mind."

"How'd she die?" Peyton immediately followed, causing her mother to roll her eyes.

"Complications from pneumonia I think," he answered. "I talked her a couple days before she keeled over and she said that she couldn't wait. Said something about death being the 'next big adventure in the circle of life' or some bullshit."

"Language!" Ellen cried.

"I'm your father, brat! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Well," Peyton said, interrupting, "that seems like a great way to look at the end of your life. She was a very brave woman. Personally, all I see are bugs eating my decomposing body six feet under." Peyton titled her head to side musingly. "I think I want to be cremated."

"Me too!" Gramps agreed morbidly. "I ain't gonna be no worm food."

"Dear Lord, grant me patience," Ellen moaned unhappily, her hands clasped tightly together. "Stop it with this talk you two! This is a horrible conversation. A poor, old woman just died and that's all you have to say?"

"Why should we be sad if the woman wanted to die?" Gramps asked. He turned his attention back to Peyton as she munched at her mashed potatoes. "I just know I want a theme at my funeral."

"Really?" Peyton said curiously. "Give me the details and I'll make sure it'll happen."

Gramps leaned in close to her. "I want a luau!" he declared. "Everyone has to wear them Hawaiian shirts and shorts. I want them wearing those flippy-floppers, too. I want hula girls serving the mourners those fancy drinks, you know, with the umbrellas in them? Then I want to go out in a blaze of glory! Oh, and if you can take my ashes to Churchill Downs. Sprinkle them at the finish line. If security comes after you that's okay. You're fast. You can outrun them."

Peyton listened to her grandfather's demands laughing behind her hand. "Wow, Gramps," she said. "You've had a lot of time to think this over."

"What else am I supposed to go?" he whined, tossing his hands into the air. "It's not like I've got myself a girlfriend or anything. Besides," he pointed to Ellen and whispered, "your wet blanket of a mother never leaves me lone! How am I supposed to get any action if she hounding after me every Goddamn day?"

"I heard that!"

"Good! Maybe it'll get you off my back."

"I'm only trying to look out for my father."

"I don't need no looking after! I'm a Marine! Now leave me alone, you harpy!"

"…I know you don't mean that, so I'll forgive you…you senile old man!"

"Senile? Dammit, I'm your father! I deserve respect!"

Peyton rolled her eyes as they continued to argue, but she was smiling. It was only after Gramps was presented with desert that he finally surrendered to his only child's overbearing. Eating the cake with relative silence with occasional small talk about the news and sports was a nice way to end the evening. Desert was delicious, of course. Peyton allowed herself the sinful pleasure of helping herself to a second piece of cake. Having to work in the morning, but having nothing to return to at home, but an empty apartment Peyton stayed the night in her old room that had remained the same since she was eighteen. Falling asleep, it was the first time in a while her mind wasn't set on work and the drama that accompanied it.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Please Review!


	3. Rumor Has It

2\. Rumor Has It

 _All of these words whispered in my ear,  
_ _Tell a story that I cannot bear to hear  
_ _Just 'cause I said it, it don't mean that I meant  
_ _People say crazy things  
_ _Just 'cause I said it, don't mean that I meant it,  
_ _Just 'cause I you heard it  
_ _Rumor has it_

 _-Rumor Has It, Adele_

"You should really wake her up."

"But she looks so peaceful."

"She's not gonna be so peaceful looking when she realizes she's late. She's gonna be _pissed_."

Slowly, Peyton's brown eyes slid open. Face half buried in a pillow, she wasn't able to see much, but the distinctive voices of her mother and grandfather indicated that she wasn't alone in her room. Lifting her head, she wiped away the remnants of dried drool from the corner of her mouth with some embarrassment. Flipping onto her side, she was greeted by her mother's smiling face and the sight of her grandfather backing steadily out of the room, eyes locked on her.

"Morning, honey!" Ellen greeted.

"Morning," she yawned. "What time is it?"

Gramps took the opportunity to scurry from the room leaving his ignorant daughter to deal with the consequences of her actions.

"Well," she began, "when you told me you haven't been getting much sleep lately I thought it would be best to let you sleep in a little."

Peyton sat up, ramrod straight. "What time is it?"

"Don't panic, it's not that late."

"What time is it, Mom?"

"Quarter after ten."

"WHAT? Mom, I was supposed to be there two hours ago!"

"Don't panic!" the woman said again. "I already called Jeffery and let him know you may not be there today. He sounded alright with it. You have the day off."

"Of course he did," Peyton shrieked, leaping out bed. She stumbled about the room to gather her belongings. "He's Jeffery! I swear both of you are plotting against me.

"Don't you think that sounds a little paranoid?"

"With you two? No way."

"I told you she'd be pissed!" Gramps called from the bottom of the stairs.

Peyton made a dash for the door. "I gotta go."

"But you have the day off!" Ellen called.

"Bye, Mom!"

"Ugh, fine!" the older woman said, crossing her arms. "Come by more often, Peyton. We miss you around here."

"Yeah, alright, okay, bye!"

The front door slammed shut and Peyton was running to her Grand Prix parked on the long extending driveway. She nearing took out her mother's garbage cans as she backed out and didn't even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before she threw it into drive. The tires squealed as she surpassed the speed limit to get out of the quiet suburb.

* * *

Sam Witwicky had his trademark grin on his face as his girlfriend, of a full six months now, walked across the campus lawn toward him with that gorgeous smile that was just for him. Leaning casually against his Chevy Camaro, he tried not to seem to desperate for her attention and attempted to keep it cool, but even after the past months, Mikaela Banes never ceased to amaze him. He also tried not to seem too snide when they just so happened to catch Trent's eye. Sam never verbally rubbed his relationship with Mikaela in the jock's face, but he did give the other boy a few cocky smiles when Mikaela hugged him or kissed him or both. Trent was still a little sore about losing his girl to a geek.

"Hey," Mikaela greeted.

"Hey, yourself," he replied smoothly.

Mikaela wordlessly pushed herself up against her boyfriend's chest, catching his lips in a delicate kiss that left the teen only wanting more.

" _Let's get it on…Ah, yeah! Let's get it on."_

"Bumblebee," both teens said, turning their attention to the hot sports car.

Their response was an audio cut of audience laughter and applause.

Even after Bumblebee spoke his first words after the battle in Mission City, the Autobot still used the radio to communicate occasionally, having done it for so long.

"So," Mikaela said, walking around to the passenger side, where Bee, always the gentleman, popped the door open for her, "what's going on? You were kind of in a hurry earlier."

"Well, Ratchet called," Sam explained. "There's going to be another landing tonight."

"An Autobot?"

" _Affirmative."_

"The signal came as an Autobot code. Bumblebee says there's no way a Decepticon could know it. And by the off chance it is a Decepticon he'll be way outnumbered." Sam sighed and climbed into his car. "After Vortex showed up the Decepticons have been a lot more organized."

Starting on his own, Bumblebee peeled out of the parking lot, Sam holding the steering wheel loosely, only to make it look like he was driving. Pulling onto the highway, they sped towards their destination keeping in the left lane, but not driving fast enough to gain the attention of any patrol cars.

"Where's the landing site?" Mikaela asked.

" _Miles from nowhere. Guess I'll take my time."_

"Yeah," Sam said, "it's gonna be a road trip. I already called me parents to let them know I'll be home in a couple of days. When I told them I was going to be with on some welcoming committee for giant alien robots they extended my curfew until Sunday."

"So it was just the one signal?"

" _By my count,"_ John Wayne said through the speakers.

"Well, maybe that's a good thing," Mikaela said with a laugh. "At least it means we won't have another set of twins."

Bumblebee blasted the Halleluiah Chorus.

"The others are going to meet up there," Sam said. "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker left a while ago. I think Ratchet's already on his way, and Ironhide," the teen chucked, "got wrangled into some last minute shopping with Sarah."

Mikaela nodded acceptingly. "What about Optimus?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Ratchet tried calling him, but Optimus couldn't talk for some reason. He said he'd try to meet up with us as soon as he could."

"But Optimus wouldn't miss something as important as this," Mikaela stated. "What if something's wrong?"

"Yeah. If he couldn't make it that then something big must've come up," Sam agreed. "Did he tell you anything, Bee?"

Bumblebee made a low whirling noise, the one he often made when he was bothered by something. Sam and Mikaela looked at each other and took that as a sign that Bumblebee hadn't heard anything from the leader of the Autobots as well.

"We'll wait it out," Mikaela finally said. "If it's something really important he'll let us know."

"Hopefully," Sam said with and mild scoff. "Optimus is the type to try and handle things on his own first."

" _You better believe it."_

"Okay," the brunette girl said firmly, "we need to focus. We have a new arrival coming and Optimus would want us to focus on that."

Sam grinned. "You make it sound like we're having a baby."

Mikaela rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

" _A baby? I wanna see!"_

"Don't encourage him, Bee."

* * *

Optimus Prime mentally sighed. Sitting in this garage was starting to irritate him. He supposed he was feeling a little claustrophobic, but claustrophobia was a human condition. Even so, it was the only term that seemed to fit how all cooped up he felt. It had only been two Earth days since he had been brought to this facility; the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Equipment lay scattered on steel tables or on the floor, some of the heavier tools looked intimidating given what they could possible do to him if used properly. There was no room to transform either in the tight space. Besides that, there were humans around 24/7. Since he had been considered a key piece of evidence in a homicide and this facility was open twenty-four hours a day he was trapped, not to mention the woman who kept doming in and taking pictures of. And don't even get him started on the print dust she left all over his interior.

Even now, there she was, looking up at him with calculating suspicion. From what he could gather by overhearing relating conversations and catching glimpses of the case file, he was not only suspected to belong to one or both assailants as a vehicle, he _was_ the murderer. He had only just pulled into the convenient store parking lot to rest when he came upon the scene just as the victim died. Having only witnessed human crimes via the news or _Law & Order_ the sight did make him pause, but only briefly. He blared his horn, hoping that it would gain the attention of the store clerk, but no one came. They even tried to open his door, maybe to kill the supposed driver that had witnessed them murdering a man, but he kept it shut. They then got into their car and left, covered in the man's blood. Performing a quick scan of the human, he was unfortunately too late to help him, having been dead before the assault had even finished. He thought it would have been best to call it into the authorities to let them handle it, but he should've known it would have made him a suspect.

The crime scene analyst, he learned to be called Peyton Callaghan, was pacing back and forth, her arms crossed, obviously going through some sort of thought process, but on what was a mystery to him. By human standards she would be considered attractive. She wasn't very tall, but she hand long legs and was of average build. Her hair was moderately long, thick and a neutral shade of blond, which she currently had up in a ponytail. Her eyes were large and brown, a common color amongst humans. But there were signs of evident exhaustion under her brown eyes, bags that no amount of makeup seemed to cover up completely.

The entrance door opened and closed, though Peyton didn't seem to notice when Optimus did. "I wish you'd just get to stripping it," the young man said. "You might actually find what you're looking for."

Peyton was shaken out of her thoughts, her entire body tense, but she kept her back to the arrogantly smirking man. "What do you want, Carter?"

Carter Watson was your usual tall, dark, handsome man in his late twenties with dark hair and dark eyes and with a knack of making James Bond references while referring to himself. He was another CSI on Jeffery's team and Peyton's ex-boyfriend. Of course, only a limited number of people actually knew that given that it was against the rules to date a co-worker so they had kept it secret. Jeffery did, however. He didn't report it. He never spoke of it, which Peyton was grateful for.

Carter was notorious for solving the big cases. He had been a cop before he switched to being a CSI, at Jeffery's encouragement. But with the addition of Peyton, Carter was not getting all the big cases he wanted. A B&E at a casino was not nearly as exciting as what Peyton was working on with Jeffery and Kelly. But knowing Carter, he'd find his way to weasel in on the case, but Peyton would be damned if it was through her.

"Just came to see what you were working on," Carter replied casually, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing. "Were you just about to get started?"

Peyton shuddered briefly under his touch, some old feelings never truly going again, but covered it up with a shrug to dislodge his hands. "None of your business. This isn't your case."

"There's no _I_ in team, Peyt."

"There's no _U_ either."

"Why are you so catty?" Carter asked exasperatedly. "I'm just trying to be civil."

"I don't want or need you to be civil," she snapped. "I want to be left alone so I can continue with my investigation."

Carter stepped closer to her and touched her arm. "I thought we were okay now."

Peyton's eyes narrowed resentfully. "And where in the hell did you get that idea?"

"Look," he sighed, "there's a reason that dating co-workers is against the rules. Look at how you're acting."

" _You_ came to _me_ ," Peyton seethed. " _You_ broke up with _me_. _You_ instigated everything. So don't start preaching to me about it being better this way. I already know it is. The only problem I still have with this whole situation is that _you_ refuse to leave me alone. So who's really not okay, Carter? Who keeps on coming back?"

Carter dropped his hand and took a step back, his lips pursed tightly together. Wordlessly, he pulled a pair of gloved around of the back pocket of his pants. Peyton watched cautiously as he pulled the gloves on and climbed up on the rig to open the door. Pulling, he was met with resistance. Optimus had decided since the woman made such a mess last time he wasn't about to let anyone else in, but that didn't stop Carter from trying.

"Did you lock it or what?" Carter asked, irritated. "Where are the keys?"

"Nope," Peyton said with a grin. "There are no keys. He just doesn't like you."

Carter looked down at her skeptically. "He doesn't _like_ me?"

"Don't look so surprised," Peyton said, crossing her arms. She leaned her weight back on her hip. "Not everyone likes you."

"You did," Carter put in snidely.

"And I'm still reaping the consequences of my choices."

Carter pressed a hand to his heart in mock pain. "You wound me."

"I'll do a lot more than that if you don't get out of here."

"Why can't I just look around?"

"Don't blame me. It's not my fault you can't open the door."

"It's locked."

"No it isn't."

"Just unlock it."

"Even if I had the key and it was locked I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because this is _my_ case and I don't want you apart of it," she cried.

"Hey," Carter said, his hands raised defensively, "I just wanted to help."

"No you didn't," she shot back. "The last time you 'helped' you took it right out of my hands and presented _my_ evidence in court."

"I included you," Carter defended.

"Yeah, as your _sidekick_."

"I thought the point was just to find the bad guy."

"Don't you have your own case to be working on?"

He sighed and jumped down from the truck. "I hit a dead end."

"Well, get out of it and leave my case alone."

"Fine," he spat, tearing off his gloves and throwing them to the ground.

Carter then stomped out of the garage, slamming the door in his wake, allowing the sound to echo off the walls. Rubbing her eyes, Peyton slumped against the table and tried to calm herself down. After a few deep breaths she didn't feel any better but figured she should get back to work. Climbing up on the truck she tried to open the door. Optimus held it shut again.

"Damn it!" she cried.

She pulled again, but was met with the same result. Nearly screeching at the top of her lungs she tried the other door. It didn't budge. Maybe she had locked it by accident? Leaning against the table again she just glared at the truck and tearing it apart didn't seem like such a tragedy anymore. It had actually been doing this to her all day. She was tempted just to get a blow torch and take the doors off all together regardless if it damaged evidence or not.

As soon as she had walked through the doors she had been getting nothing but crap from her co-workers. The only ones on her side and weren't afraid to admit it were Jeffery, Kelly, Grant, Allen, and another tech from ballistics analysis and she didn't want them protecting her. When Jeffery teased her about coming in and her impromptu day off she practically begged him to punish her for being late instead. At first, Jeffery didn't get it. When he understood why she was so desperate he decided to put her on paperwork duty except for all to do with the truck. He wouldn't write her up, however, drawing the line there, no matter how much Peyton begged him to. Paperwork was probably the worst part of her job anyway, probably of any job, and she hoped that this would show everyone that she wasn't a kiss-ass.

Not really. She had heard a comment in the coffee lounge not long afterward that had put her in the mood she seemed to be stuck in. It was the one thing she feared the most since she started working in the crime lab and the very thing she and her grandfather had discussed last night at dinner. It turned out that no matter how old you got, people seemed perpetually stuck at the same maturity level of a high school student. One of the techs from trace actually had the audacity to accuse her of sleeping with Jeffery. When she heard the comment, every fiber of her being told her to march in there and unload her 9mm into the hag's face. But in the end she just walked away.

Jeffery was her _godfather_. He changed her diapers, took her to the park and pushed her on the swings, crawled around in his hands and knees so she could ride on his back. He helped her with her science projects and study for math. He took care of her and her mom when his best friend had been murder, leaving his shattered family behind. Though their relationship wasn't public everyone noticed how fatherly he was to Peyton and he never alluded to anything else but that. She wasn't sure if the rumor spread to Jeffery yet, but when it did she knew that shit would hit the fan. Honestly she was kind of scared. Worse case scenario involved a formal investigation, but she hoped Steven Reynolds, Jeffery's boss, would see it for what it really was, which was hurtful rumors.

She felt a warm tickle on her cheek. Lifting her hand, she brushed it away only to feel moisture. Cursing she wiped her eyes and tears away. Angry and embarrassed she was even crying, even though no one could see her, she marched over to truck and delivered a swift kick to the front tire. It was a bad idea, on her part, seeing how it did more damage to her then to the truck. Biting her lip in pain she limped to the door. She opened it to reveal Jeffery. The older man looked grim, as well as annoyed and pissed off beyond belief, which was a difficult thing to accomplish since Jeffery had always been a very cool, calm, and collected person.

But Peyton lost it. A wretched sob tore out of her gut as tears flooded her eyes. Jeffery wordlessly pulled her into a fatherly embrace and rand his hand up and down her back. She clung to him, just like she used to do when she was little after a nightmare. This _was_ a nightmare. Both of their reputations were compromised because an idiotic, unfair rumor produced out of jealousy and there was nothing either one of them could do anything about it.

* * *

Optimus couldn't say for sure why the woman had kicked him other than the fact that she was angry with him, but when she broke down upon seeing her boss he assumed that her actions were not directly because of him. Crying was something that the Autobots thought fascinating. Bumblebee recounted that when he had lost his legs and had been unable to get up, both Sam and Mikaela had cried at seeing him in such a state, not knowing that while it would take weeks and many sessions with Ratchet, Bumblebee's legs would be restored. Ratchet, of course, always looked at crying from an analytical perspective, Ironhide looked uncomfortable, but Optimus considered its meaning.

Humans often cried when they were upset about something in varying degrees. It was shown more with the negative emotions, but humans would sometimes cry during happy times as well. But according to his audio sensors and the grim expression on the man's face something was seriously wrong. The older human was being quiet comforting in a parental way. He watched them until Peyton calmed and they left the garage.

It was only when he was sure the room was secure that he opened his com-link and sent a transmission to his medical officer. "Prime to Ratchet."

"Sir," came the greeting, "I'm surprised you are not here yet."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to make it in time," Optimus replied. "How many signals were detected?"

"Just the one. By calculating the trajectory I've determined that he will crash in the Arizona desert, unfortunately, it will be near the Grand Canyon. Hopefully the landing won't draw too much attention."

"Arizona?" Optimus mused.

"Yes, sir. Are you near by?"

"No, I am still in Nevada. In Las Vegas."

"Ah, yes," Ratchet said, a grinning tone in his voice. "I've heard of it. Sam seems determined to go there for his 21st birthday. Humans gamble away their currency in games of chance that are hardly ever won. The motto is 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.'" Ratchet was silent for a moment. "Though I really don't know what exactly humans are hiding there. It just seems to be a place of entertainment."

"Humans have interesting customs," Optimus said. "Jazz would have known more about it."

Ratchet's voice became a little grave. "Yes, he would have." He allowed a small chuckle to pass. "He'd probably suggest we go there."

Optimus thought back fondly on their fallen comrade, as well as with a little guilt.

"So, if you're still in Nevada, why are you unable to meet us at the landing?"

"Well," Optimus said with a sigh, "I have gotten myself into…a situation."

"Are you alright? Are you damaged?"

"No, no I'm fine, but it seems I've managed to get myself caught up in a homicide case."

"Homicide?" Ratchet asked, confusion evident. "How in the world did you manage that?"

"I was stopping on I-15 just as two human finished murdering another, for what reason, I do not know. They tried to climb in my cab and left traces of blood behind. I called the authorities, but that only made my voice a suspect. The crime scene analysts also though I was a key piece of evidence and brought me back with them."

"Why not leave?" Ratchet suggested. "I'm sure Mr. Keller would rather explain your disappearance from a crime lab rather then your existence on Earth."

Optimus fell silent. He had thought of leaving many times. It wasn't like it would be too difficult. The only thing that stood between him and freedom was a rusty garage door. But as he thought about it he reconsidered. "I do not wish to inconvenience Mr. Keller more then we already have."

"But Optimus," Ratchet pleaded, "if the signal was intercepted by the Decepticons we'll need your help."

"Have you sensed their movements?"

"No, I haven't, but—"

"I will be there as soon as I can. If the Decepticons come, keep them away from the landing site. No doubt our friend will be slightly disorientated from the landing."

"Yes, sir," he relented. "I hope things progress well for the case."

"Thank you. I'm sure they will. Please express my deepest apologies of my absence to our newest comrade."

"I will, sir. Ratchet out."

Optimus sighed again once the transmission had cut out. As he sat there in the dark, preparing himself for stasis, he wondered if he really knew what he was doing.

* * *

A/N: So, something that changed from the other version is talking about Carter and Peyton's breakup more. In the beginning, not going to lie, I just wanted them to be rivals. The relationship ending poorly aspect came around way later and just sort of just happened. Even when I was writing it years ago I felt like it kinda came out of nowhere so this time around I wanted it to be established. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray


	4. You Ain't Nothin' but a Hound Dog

A/N: Happy Memorial Day! This a day we honor all our service men and women here in the United States. So thank you to those who are currently serving, those who have served, and those who have given their lives for this country. While people in the US seem divided, I hope that we can be united in how grateful we are for all that you do, will do, and have done. Thank you all so much.

* * *

3\. You Ain't Nothin' but a Hound Dog

Peyton sniffed loudly, not a pleasant sound, as she stared down into her steam mug of hot chocolate. She wasn't a coffee drinker which forced Jeffery to run to the store since he didn't have anything else. She, of course, protested and said that his still nearly full bottle of Grey Goose would have been sufficient, but he wasn't getting the hint. Or maybe he was just choosing to ignore it. So, now, there they were, sitting in his apartment, at his kitchen table, over steaming beverages unsure of what to say or what to do.

Surrounded by used tissues, Peyton was embarrassed by how much she actually cried. But while she was humiliated by it she had to admit that it felt good to finally release all that pent up emotion. But it was all still lingering and while crying had helped it wasn't permanent. The rumor had spread to the office of Sheriff Gordon Crawford, who hated Jeffery enough as it was, and knowing him, he'd try to use this as leverage to get Jeffery fired or at least demoted. So, once again, Peyton was contemplating her future in Las Vegas, considering transferring to another city if only for Jeffery's sake. Her godfather became red in the face and his eye started twitching when she told him that so she decided to let it drop until he calmed down enough.

"Well," she sighed, "I really don't want to go back to work."

"You're just going to roll over and give up?" Jeffery asked. "I had no idea you were such a quitter, Peyton."

"Oh, don't even," she scoffed. "Ever since I got here everyone's given me shit. Crawford is just dying to get one over you and you know it. Why jeopardize your career? I wouldn't even move that far away."

"You are not moving."

"Jeffery…"

"Do you honestly think I give a damn what Crawford thinks?" Jeffery demanded. "He's only looked to protect his own ass and I'm not losing the best I've got to tech-geek jealousy."

Peyton rolled her eyes. "You're only saying that because I'm your goddaughter."

"I'm saying that because it's true," he said earnestly. His hands flew up from the table exasperatedly. "Jesus, Peyton, why do you do this to yourself? It had nothing to do with you being my goddaughter. If anything, I've been harder on you then anyone else. You just rise to the occasion and hardly notice." Leaning forward he took one of her hands in his. "You came out of school with more passion and drive than I have ever seen top of your class and taking on your first quadruple homicide as a _rookie_. I know why you went into forensics, Peyton."

He reached forward and took her chin into his hand as a tear slid down her cheek. "When your dad died you swore that you would not what happened to you and your mom happen to another family if you could help it. They would not be left wondering why or who. You would give them closure, something you never got. You became the best, not because of me, but because of the promise you made to yourself. Everything you've done, everything you will do is because of yourself. So stop doubting yourself and beating yourself up over things that you can't control."

Peyton shifted, smiling, but still a little uncomfortable with the display of emotion. "And the Oscar goes to…"

Jeffery pinched her cheek. "Knock it off."

Peyton laughed and took his hand. "Thanks, Jeff," she said sincerely. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, let's not find out anytime soon." Leaning forward he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Now," he said, "tomorrow, we're going to head into work and ignore whatever anyone says, okay? Act normal."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded with a weary smile. "Okay."

* * *

Mikaela shivered involuntarily against the desert cold, snuggling back into her boyfriend's arms as they say before the small bonfire with long jeans and hoodies to keep them warm. Bumblebee sat close by, watching the sky for anything remotely resembling a falling Autobot from space, but after nearly five hours of waiting they had yet to see anything but shooting stars. Sam and Mikaela, who had resided in Tranquility for most of their lives, didn't get to see shooting stars too often, but the 'oh's and 'ah's faded as the novelty wore off and the cold air settled in. The two decided to build a fire to keep warm with Bumblebee's help but with the limited amount of debris around it was small.

"Man," Sideswipe groaned, sitting up from his laying position, "I have sand in places that I _really_ don't need it."

"Quit complaining," his twin said.

"Hey, Ratchet," Sam called upward, "I though you said he'd be here by now."

"Any minute now."

"Yeah," Sides scoffed, "that's what he said two hours ago."

"He'll get here when he gets here," Ironhide stated, his large arms crossed over his chest plate. "Learn some patience."

"Yeah, this coming from the mech who whips out his canons at anything that is remotely irritating," Sunstreaker said smartly.

"HA! You should have seen him after watching Oprah for the first time," Sam said gleefully. "He almost blew up my TV to turn her off."

Ironhide glared down at Sam. "You refused to change the channel."

Sideswipe stared at Ironhide with wide optics. "You watch Oprah?"

"No, of course not!" Ironhide protested loudly.

"But he does watch Ellen," Sam reported helpfully.

"Oh, I like her," Mikaela added. "I like when she dances."

"Do you like when she dances, Ironhide?" Sunstreaker asked.

Ironhide turned towards the yellow twin. "Keep it up, hot shot," he encouraged threatening raising his right arm and revealing a large gun. "Let's see where it gets you."

Bumblebee held his hands up placating. _"Can't we all just get along?"_

"Hey," Sideswipe said looking around, "why isn't Optimus coming?"

"I already _told_ you," Ratchet replied tiredly. "He has some business to take care of for the next couple days or so."

"Yeah, but isn't this important?" Sideswipe pressed.

Ratchet returned the question with a firm stare trying to assert some authority, but it was highly unlikely that either one of the twins would ever listen to anyone but Optimus. "He expressed his apologies for not being here, but he has other matters to attend to."

"Like…?"

"That," Ironhide said, stepping in, "is none of your business. Prime will get here when he gets here."

"Apparently everyone will get her when they get here," Sunstreaker said snidely.

Bumblebee waved his arms. _"Alright, alright. Simmer down y'all. Get back with us soon—Why should I worry?"_

"Bee's right," Mikaela said. "If Optimus has something to handle on his own then let's just leave it at that. And while you all have been gobbling away like a bunch of turkeys none of you noticed that our new arrival's coming down _waaay_ over there." She pointed into the distance where a streak of light was hurtling towards the ground.

"Alright! Finally!" Sideswipe shouted, leaping to his feet and transforming in a red Lamborghini.

The others followed suit. Gathering the blanket he and Mikaela had been sitting on, they jumped into Bumblebee and sped towards the light, Bee kicked up enough sand to dose the small fire they had made. The ground shook as the light made impact with the earth, kicking up sand and debris, temporarily filling the air before settling down again. The Autobots slid to a stop at the edge of the crater where a familiar looking, oval shaped pod sat at the bottom. Transforming back into their bipedal mode they all peered into the crater as the new arrival emerged, looking around confusedly until looking up.

Bumblebee tossed a fist into the air excitedly. _"You ain't nothin' but a hound dog!"_

"Hound dog?" Sam asked. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. You guys all have pretty weird names."

"Just Hound will do, kid," the mech from the carter called, his voice thick with a southern accent. "Now, if y'all don't mind I'm feelin' a bit underdressed down 'ere so can ya maybe help me out?" Hound asked sheepishly. "I'd like to scan somethin' before my tailpipe freezes off, thank you kindly."

Sideswipe and Ironhide reached in and pulled the newest Autobot out of the crater his landing had creating, quickly covering it again as much as possible. Heading for the nearest highway, they waited for a vehicle to pass that Hound liked. There weren't many to choose from so late at night, or early in the morning, depending on who you were asking, but when an army green Jeep Wrangler passed Hound deemed it suitable. Transforming into their vehicle moves they all headed back to Tranquility. Sam and Mikaela fast asleep with fifteen minutes of their trip home.

* * *

William Lennox opened his eyes when he heard the cry of his baby daughter. Looking at the clock, noting that it was two in the morning, he groaned and rolled on his side to get up.

"Do you want me to get her?" Sarah asked softly beside him.

"No, I got her," he replied, rubbing a hand down his face. "I still don't know why we just can't do the whiskey trick," he pouted. "My parents did it for me and I turned out fine."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I am not giving our baby whiskey," she stated firmly. "She has another teething ring in the freezer." She rolled over and stuffed her pillow under her head.

"Yeah, yeah."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "And that thing about you turning out fine is still debatable."

Will grinned and leaned over kissing her. "I love you."

"Hmm, love you too. Now got take care of your daughter."

Will chuckled and got up from the bed, wearing only his boxers and a white T-shirt. Shuffling from the room and to the kitchen he grabbed the flower shaped ring from the second shelf in the freezer. Yawning loudly he went back down the hall and entered through the white door on his right, marking in bubble lettering as "Annabelle."

When he opened the door, Annabelle was already standing, holding on the crib railing for support, fingers jammed in her mouth and fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked up at her daddy desperately.

"Hey, hey," he cooed, pulling the crying baby from her crib. "Daddy's here. Here you go."

The screaming continued until the ring was set firmly in between sore gums. The infant's crying was reduced to small sniffles and whimpers. Gently rocking her in his arms, Will sat on the cream colored glider near the window. Looking away from Annabelle, long enough to sneak a peek out the window he saw that the driveway was empty.

"Where is he?" Will asked himself. Annabelle made a soft gurgling sound, gaining her daddy's attention once again. Grinning, Will tickled her tummy, making her smile. "Where is he, Annabelle? Where's that big, bad robot with your car seat?"

Annabelle giggled and used one of her hands to grab her father's pinky while her other hand held the ring in her mouth. Will laughed as he pretended that her 'awesome baby strength' was crushing his finger. Eventually, Annabelle tired herself out and Will carried her to her crib. Tucking her in, he kissed her soft blond hair. Going to the window, he checked one last time to see if Ironhide returned only to see an empty driveway again. He wasn't there.

Will regretted that he hadn't been able to go to the landing, but work had held him up. The Department of Defense was formulating a task force that would work hand in hand with the Autobots in protecting the Earth against the Decepticons. While most other nations were still in the dark about aliens on Earth, there were a few that were pulling their resources towards the effort whether it be money or soldiers. Will was playing a role a liaison to the Autobots as well and coming up with training programs and such with Ironhide's help. The Decepticons were just an enemy you could walk up to with a gun and have a fire fight. Their armor was thick and only weak in a few places.

The project was still low key. Only Optimus knew the full details besides himself.

His new position often made him stay at the 'office' longer than he would have liked, but it was all necessary. The countries aware of the Autobots and Decepticons were also planning on how to reveal the existence, formally, to the rest of the world with out causing panic, religious backlash, or violence.

Going to his room, Sarah was fast asleep on her side, facing him. Crawling into bed beside her he stared at her beautiful face as he ran a hand over her blond hair. Sarah sighed and leaned into his touch. A smile graced the soldier's face. Having been in the Middle East for so long and missing the birth of his daughter the crisis with the alien robot menace he felt blessed to finally be with his family.

"Is she sleeping?" Sarah asked softly.

Will sighed contently as his wife scooted into closer, tucking her head under his chin. "Like a baby."

Sarah laughed a little, but kept her eyes closed. Will was seconds from sleep when a familiar rumble came closer to the house. Both of the couple's eyes opened and in an instant they were out of bed and heading for the front door. Throwing it open, they watched Ironhide roll up the dirt driveway until coming to a stop in front of their small house.

"Hey, man," Will greeted. "How'd it go?"

"Fine."

Will waited for more of an explanation but it didn't come. "And…?" he pressed.

"And what?"

"Is there anything else you'd like to share with the class?"

"Nothing in particular."

"Really?" Will said skeptically annoyed. "Sarah," he said gently, "maybe you should head inside. It's kind of chilly tonight. Don't you think it's chilly tonight?"

"You know, you can just tell me that this is going to be a man-to-metal-man talk," she said. "Good night, Ironhide," she added before slipping back into the house and shutting the door.

Ironhide grunted tonelessly in reply, but that was typical of him. He popped open the passenger side door for Will to climb inside.

"You took the car seat with you," Will pointed out immediately.

"So?"

"Well, we only have one. And when you go somewhere and take the car seat we end up having to always buy a new one."

"Well, maybe you should buy one for the other car."

"I tried! You refused to let Annabelle ride in that car anymore because you said it wasn't as safe."

"Well that doesn't mean you have to leave that contraption _in me_ all the time."

"What do you have against car seats?"

"They're uncomfortable."

Will looked into the back seat and sure enough the car seat was gone. "You transformed with it, didn't you?"

"I had to."

Will dropped his head with a groan. "Damn it, Ironhide. Sarah's going to kill me."

"I told you to take it out when it wasn't in use."

"Couldn't you have just—! Argh! You know every time you transform and destroy the car seats I always have to buy another one _and_ sleep on the couch."

"I repeat: I told you to take it out."

Will sighed. "Well, maybe I can get another one before she notices."

"Good luck," the mech offered. "Your mate is a force to be reckoned with."

"Thanks, buddy," Will said sarcastically. "So how'd it all go tonight? What's the new guy's name?"

"His name is Hound. He's our hologram and cloaking expert and tracker."

"Holograms, huh?" Will mused. "Where's he staying?"

"For the time being he will stay with Sam and Bumblebee until we can find him a human contact."

"Why does he need a human contact?" Will asked. "How many humans are you planning to involve?"

"As many as it takes," Ironhide responded firmly. "Your Internet can only provide so much accurate information and Optimus doesn't want us to rely to heavily on it. It is…corrupted."

Will snickered at the memory of his friend downloading porn, by what he claimed, to be an accident. "So your friend's going to need a human playmate ASAP, I assume."

"Preferably."

Will nodded thoughtfully. "I might know a guy."

* * *

Robert Epps knew how to keep cool. Having been a soldier for a better part of his adult life, he knew that panicking during a battle would get you killed. But outside of the army, to say that Robert Epps was a man who always kept him cool would be a big, fat lie. The man was currently staring at his friend and commander in a mixture of shock and horror.

"Oh, you have got to be shitting me!"

Will chased after him as he bolted into another room of his apartment. "Epps!" he called. "You need a new car anyway. Better than that old POS you drive."

"That 'POS' is a classic," Epps defended. "It's a beauty."

"Yeah, yeah," Will said, rolling his eyes. "I know it's your baby, but c'mon man. This is a once in a lifetime experience."

"I've had enough 'lifetime experiences' running through the desert and running through the city being shot at by a bunch of giant robots. I need a vacation, man. I can't handle anymore of them."

"Look at Ironhide. He's great!" Will stated. "He even let Sarah put a car seat in him…even if he does routinely destroy them. But I trust him and he says Hound's a cool, laid back kind of guy. I wouldn't ask you this if I thought you guys couldn't work together."

"Have you ever met him?" Epps demanded. "Have you talked to him?"

Will's confidence faltered. "Well, not really. I mean, briefly but—"

"Then what do you know?" the man shouted, slamming his bedroom door shut in Will's face.

"Epps," Will yelled, pounding his fist on the door, "get out here!"

"Go away!"

"I'm not asking you to date him."

"You may as well be."

"Come on! Hound is right outside right now. You at least have to meet the guy."

"No, I don't!"

"Yeah, you do. Ironhide and Ratchet are here, too and if you offend Hound then you offend them and the rest of the Autobots so get your ass out here and meet the alien robot!"

Epps swung the door open and shoved his finger in Will's face. "This is peer pressure. I do not condone this."

He slammed the door shut again.

"This isn't an after school special. It won't kill you," Will stated tiredly.

"Where the hell were you when that ugly, motherfucking scorpion thing was chasing us? It can to kill me!"

"Decepticon, man," Will reminded. "That was a Decepticon. This is an Autobot."

"Autobots fight Decepticons. If I get all buddy-buddy with this guy I'm going to be seeing more them. Nuh uh. No. Thank you."

Will rolled his eyes and stepped back. Taking a breath he brought his foot up and kicked the door enough to put a scuff and dent in the wood. There was a less than manly startled shriek on the other side.

"Get the fuck out here, Epps!"

Eventually, Epps did venture outside, though he would argue that it was coerced after Will nearly kicked the door off its hinges. Seeing a familiar yellow H2 search and rescue truck seeing between a black GMC Topkick and an army green Jeep Wrangler Epps assumed that the jeep was the newest addition to the Autobots. All of a sudden the jeep door opened and a tall man stepped out. His hair was sandy, dark-blonde. He wore simple blue jeans and brown leather boots. His shirt was long sleeved and white. One his head, the man actually wore a brown leather cowboy hat. However, his strangest feature was his eyes. They were bright blue, practically glowing. Epps merely stared at the man as he came up to him.

"Howdy," he said.

"Um…" Epps looked to Will for help, "sup."

"So I'm guessin' that you're US Air Force Tech Sergeant Robert Epps."

"Yeah I am," he replied. "And you are?"

"I'm Hound."

Epps blinked twice before his mouth opened in slow motion. "You're Hound?"

"Sure am."

"Y-You mean the…um…"

"Autobot?" the man asked with a grin. "Well, yeah!"

"What the…What's going on?"

"It's a hologram, Epps," Will provided.

"Oh, a hologram," Epps scoffed. "Why didn't you tell me that? I thought I would be meeting a robot and now I'm staring at a wannabe cowboy." As if to prove his point, Epps shoved his hand through the hologram's translucent chest, making the projected image flicker.

"Hey," Hound said, looking mildly offended.

"Sorry," Will said to the hologram. "He's having an off day."

"No worries," Hound said kindly with a smile. "I'm a little apprehensive too. Ya know, since it's the 'I really don't know you and you don't know me but we gotta work together, kinda deal."

"Yeah, pretty much," Epps said, more resigned.

"Just give it a try, guys," Will said as the mediator. "What can it hurt?"

Epps gave the other man an irritated glare before shifting his attention back to the hologram, which was smiling and looking friendly enough. Since the battle in Mission City, Epps wasn't sure where he would stand when it came to the fight. Part of him preferred just to remain in the army, fighting an enemy that wasn't twice his size and he knew that if he took this job it was likely he would join the task force that was currently being established in DC. But even as the uneasiness remained, Epps found himself nodding and offering his new partner and tentative grin.

* * *

Peyton sighed heavily as she shut her apartment door behind her. Jeffery offered her the couch if she didn't want to be alone, but that was exactly what Peyton wanted so she politely turned down the offer. The next that Peyton went back to work, subjected to the same scornful glances from her co-workers as before. The stress was distracting and she was already falling behind in her work. The truck was still in the garage in one piece when it should be in many. Tearing that beauty of a truck was blasphemy in her opinion, but she, honestly, didn't trust anyone else to do it. _Besides_ , she thought, _it might be a great way to get rid of all this pent up frustration._

* * *

A/N: Not much really changed about this chapter other than bringing up the task force thing. You all should know what it is I'm referring to since if comes up in the second movie. *wink wink* Hope you liked it. Let me know what you think!

Please Review


	5. Free Time

A/N: All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

* * *

4\. Free Time

Sitting at her computer, Maggie Madsen wasn't sure how much longer this upload was going to take, but as the minutes rolled by she was becoming increasingly bored and frustrated. Her two bedroom apartment was probably the picture that would be displayed by the definition of pigsty, but when you worked for the US Secretary of Defense you didn't have much time fore housekeeping. There was a low roar of and expensive sounding engine from outside. Maggie quickly jumped from her chair, nearly tipping it over in her haste to get to the window, just as a yellow Lamborghini pulled into a covered parking space outside her apartment building.

Maggie turned from the window, grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter and left her room, locking it behind her. Since the upload was taking for forever and a day she had time to play 20 questions with Sunstreaker since she hadn't spoken to him or seen him in two days. Her hand tightened into a fist around her keys, the jagged metal digging into the palms of her hands. The damn Autobot was so inconsiderate. She paid extra on her rent just so he didn't have to sit without cover in the rain or whatever else that could damage his paint and he couldn't even tell her where he was going from time to time? Exiting the building and marching over to the car, the door popped open on its own and she slid into the driver's seat.

"The landing was two days ago," she stated immediately. "Where have you been?"

"Around," the voice said smoothly from the radio.

"Sunstreaker," she cried angrily, "I have work. You said you'd be back yesterday. You didn't even return my calls. I called Glen and he said Sides came right back to the house. How come you didn't?"

"Calm down, woman!" Sunstreaker yelled back. "I just needed to take a long drive afterward, that's all."

Immediately, Maggie's anger switched to a mix of annoyance and concern. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

He sighed. "No."

"Sunny," she said pressingly, "if something's bothering you, you should tell me?"

"Why are you so pushy?" Sunny asked, somewhat amused.

"It's bred into my family," she shrugged. "Now what's up?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Because maybe I'm worried," Maggie said as a matter of fact. "Why can't you just tell me?"

Sunny remained silent, but Maggie said no more. Since being partnered with this human woman he found it had many benefits as well as hindrances. Given that she was only human, she was very fragile and when in battle with the Decepticons there was a good possibility that she could either get hurt or killed very easily, but this fiery woman was not one to go down without a fight.

When he first met her, their personalities clashed. Always considered the 'pretty boy' of the Autobots, Sunstreaker wasn't one to get his hands dirty unless it was completely necessary and even then he was prone to what his twin called 'hissy fits.' Maggie didn't like the vainness he displayed right off the bat and called him out on it numerous times, which peeved him to no end, yet here they were. The last couple of months being with Maggie, he had learned many interesting things about human culture and she was the greatest source and gave him real-life insight that he couldn't find on the Internet.

He liked Earth. He liked how relatively peaceful it was compared to Cybertron. Sure, there were wars, but that came with any world with sentient life. But as more Decepticons and Autobots came to this small world, he often thought about his home planet. Would this planet become like that one; a desolate waste land unable to support life because of war? Sunny really didn't want to see that happen. What was worse was that, unlike them, humans just couldn't pack up and leave. They had yet to achieve that sort technology and the thought of Maggie perishing of their war…

It made him sick.

Sunny sighed again. "It's nothing."

"You're a horrible liar," Maggie stated, crossing her arms.

"And you're a nosy human."

Maggie huffed obnoxiously, tossing her hands into the air, bringing them down hard on the steering wheel, hurting herself more than her counterpart. But as she continued to sit in his interior she didn't press the matter anymore. Maggie sat for nearly an hour until her bright eyes started to droop. Checking the Earth time he noted that it was far too late for a human to still be awake. Although most humans remained resilient in the late hours, Maggie was a lightweight in that department.

"Go to bed," he ordered. "I don't need you falling asleep in here."

"Maybe I should," she said teasingly slouching down in the seat. "What would you do about it?"

"Go."

"Fine," Maggie said, a little hurt.

Throwing open the door, none too gently, Maggie stomped back to her apartment without looking back. Sunny silently cursed his callous attitude. He didn't really know why he was so harsh with the human woman at times. He believed the phrase typically used was 'insert foot in mouth.'

Maggie was marching down the hall towards the stairs when woman suddenly appeared at her side. "Man troubles?"

"Excuse me?" Maggie laughed nervously.

"I couldn't help but hear your conversation earlier."

Maggie's mouth dropped her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Sunny's doors had been shut. She had no idea that either of them were that loud. "You heard that?"

"Well, I was walking into the building and I…yes," she said softly. The woman was in her mid-forties with a kind smile and eyes.

"Oh," Maggie said, "Sorry about that then. It's really nothing."

"I just had my divorce," she continued. "You should dump him before you commit any further. If you can't work out your problems now, what will you do when you're married? I already made that mistake and I can tell you that it got me no where."

Maggie suddenly felt like smacking the woman as she continued her speech. Sure the woman was ignorant to the situation that involved an alien and the fact that there was a relatively secret alien war being fought on Earth. And there was _no way_ she would _ever_ marry Sunstreaker, if that could even _work_. A few hours into the marriage he'd drive her so far up the way she'd take a power-drill to her head so she didn't have to listen to his moodiness and vain attitude. Not the nice, small house in suburbia with the white picket fence kind of life. But she did care about Sunny. They were friends with a very interesting, if not unstable, friendship. There was no way she would ever just drop Sunstreaker like that.

So this woman may have had a failed marriage and even though Sunny and Maggie were merely partners and friends she wasn't about to let that fail. Though the idea of having an Autobot as a boyfriend made her laugh. When she tried to hide it, it came out as a snort that looked like a sob to the older woman.

"It'll be alright, honey," she said. "You have to do what you have to do."

Maggie shook her head. "No," she said strongly. "Look, thanks for the advice, but it's not what you think. My friend and I have arguments all the time. It's not that kind of relationship. Thanks for your concern though. Goodnight."

She turned away without another word and walked to the elevator, a smile on her face. In her apartment, she quickly got ready for bed after checking her upload. It wasn't even half done. Leaving her computer running, she'd check it tomorrow before work. Looking out the window one more time, she smiled down at the yellow sport's car. She couldn't tell, but she got the feeling he was looking up at her as well.

"Night!" she called.

Quickly shutting the window, she crawled under her cotton sheets and fell asleep. Outside, Sunny was monitoring her stasis, waiting until her hear slowed and her breathing evened out as it did in human sleep before slipping into recharge himself.

* * *

Epps decidedly kept out of the driver's seat while he and Hound cruised on I-15. Most of the drive was quiet, which both were comfortable with. What they weren't comfortable with was the face that one was human while the other was something else entirely. While Hound though the human world was absolutely fascinating, his curiosity rivaling that of the late first-lieutenant, Jazz, he wasn't exactly thrilled to have a fleshy to babysit. But when Ratchet told him that it was an order from Optimus, whom he had yet to see, he sucked it up and rolled with it.

What Hound found the most interesting about Robert Epps was his knowledge in technology. Turns out, while the man wasn't eager to be partnered with him he knew a lot about the Autobots, mostly concerning their weaponry. Well, at least the portion that the Autobots allowed them to see. Maybe he should have switched humans with Ironhide. If they spoke at all it had something to do with Autobot makeup and weapons, but he did seem quite impressed with Hound's specialty, hence why Hound had his hologram cowboy driving. As to why he chose the southern country boy façade it was mostly because he was a but of a fan of the old western films. Though historically and politically inaccurate they were entertaining nonetheless and the idea of the wild west, riding horses, and herding cattle just seemed like a great lifestyle to lead if you were a human.

"So," Epps began cautiously, "as hologram expert, what do you do exactly?"

Hound tried not to laugh at the blatantly obvious questions and Epps attempt at starting another conversation. "I design and program holograms," he explained. "Vehicles drivin' themselves around doesn't sit well with just you humans."

"That's it?"

"No. I also design cloakin' devices and holographic diversions."

"Cloaking devices?" Epps interested perked. "Like what?"

"Well," the mech started, "I can rig up a generator to send out electromagnetic waves and turn the surroundin' area into a projection maskin' an entire location to match the scenery and make it damn near impossible to find visually. They were really helpful back on Cybertron."

"That'd come in handy here," Epps stated. "You guys still haven't got a base here, huh?"

"I just got 'ere," Hound replied. "I don't know what y'all been doin'."

"No one filled you in yet?"

"Nope."

"Well, I'm sure your boss will be talking to you real soon."

"If I ever see 'im," Hound said a little forlornly.

Epps frowned, watching his new partner. He had seen how other Autobots reacted at the mention of their leader, Optimus Prime. They all seemed to admire him greatly, which he found to be understandable. From what he knew of the largest Autobot he had a great sense of honor and duty and was a noble leader, sincere and not to mention a fierce warrior.

"Ah, you'll see him soon," the solider said reassuringly.

"I hope so."

"Enough with the negativity, man!" Epps ordered. Almost reach out to pat the hologram's shoulder, he stopped when he realized that his hand would only pass through him. Awkwardly, he patted the dash, making the cowboy beside him laugh.

"Yer not too bad," he said teasingly. "A little whiny, but yer not bad."

Epps looked openly offended. "Whiny?"

"Yeah," Hound said with another boisterous laugh. "You weren't too eager to get in the car earlier, were you?"

"Man, I am _not_ whiny."

"HA!"

"C'mon! You're a huge friggin' _robot!_ I helped take out a couple of those Decepticon punks, you know. I've been battered and bruised and shit and I never complained about that. You know what that means, Howdy Doody? It means I'm not whiny!"

Hound merely laughed as the human continued to look extremely put off, nearly pouting in the passenger seat. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I take it back. Yer not all that whiny."

"Not whiny _at all_."

"Okay."

"I mean it, man. If you want this work out, you better try harder to make me like you."

"Hey, I said okay!"

Epps crossed his arms over his chest. "But you don't mean it."

Hound rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to driving, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter and it was an image that made Epps momentarily forget that he wasn't human.

* * *

The yellow H2 driving down the street didn't have a driver, but with its tinted windows one couldn't tell unless they looked hard enough. Thankfully, since his arrival on Earth, Hound would get started on making reliable holograms for the Autobots to use.

Ratchet turned on his signal and merged into the right lane when he was able to, but was immediately tailed by a Ford Focus. His engine rumbled irritably. These humans didn't know when to slow down and take their time. _Oh, well,_ he thought snidely. _I'm in the right lane. He can go around me._ Sure enough, the sedan merged left and shot past him. Ratchet, who wasn't in the best of moods to begin with, was tempted to perform a rude gesture human's called 'flicking off' or 'flipping the bird,' but of course that would require a hologram he didn't have or to transform and he didn't think his fellow driver would take kindly to that.

It wasn't long until Ratchet rolled into Tranquility General Hospital and pulled around to the back of the building. There were only a few people inside standing in the open. One was a man in his thirties standing near the door speaking with an older woman in blue scrubs. He was tall and handsome with brown, overgrown hair that was turning a little gray on the sides. The man's head was bowed, a look of regret and shame on his face that raised concern in the medic.

Ratchet watched as the nurse patted the man's shoulder and smiled reassuringly, but he didn't look up. Turning away, he looked through the automatic doors and directly at Ratchet. There was a twitch of his lips into what could have developed into a smile, but it didn't make it. Saying goodbye to the nurse, he walked through the automatic doors. Ratchet popped open the driver side door and the man climbed in wordlessly.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Fine," Ratchet replied. "His name is Hound. He's a great asset to the team."

"I'm looking forward to meeting him. Sorry I missed out," he sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Work was kind of…rough."

Ratchet, unbeknownst to his human partner, preformed a quick bio-scan as the man rubbed his face wearily, his tired blue eyes slipping closed. "Jason," Ratchet said firmly, as though taking to a child, "you are overexerting yourself again. At this rate you'll collapse within days."

Jason huffed. "Did you just scan me?"

"Yes," Ratchet said without hesitance.

"You know I hate it when you do that."

"You promised to take some time off," he countered. "You need to recuperate. You are not getting the required amount of sleep nor the proper nutrition. You have a high deficiency of iron in your system as well as vitamins B and C." He sighed heavily. "You are killing yourself."

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"In the long term no I am not."

"Yeah, well, I can't stop right now," Jason shot back. His expression darkened from anger to remorse and self hatred. "We are already short handed and that bus accident two nights ago only added to the fun."

"I understand that that was the reason you were unable to greet Hound with us."

"Yeah."

Though Ratchet had a feeling he knew the answer to his next question, he found himself asking anyway. "Were there many fatalities?"

"…"

"Jason?"

"Eight," the man answered in a hoarse whisper. "Eight people died in forty-eight hours."

"I'm sure you did what you could have done."

"Don't tell me that Ratchet," Jason cried, frustrated. "There were nineteen passengers! Three died before help arrived and now there's only half left of the sixteen that made it to the hospital, two of which are still in critical condition and I…" He dropped his face into his hands. "Someone died on my table today. That's…That's never happened to me before." Ratchet decidedly remained silent, despite knowing where the man was coming from given how many comrades he had lost while trying to save them.

"A girl," Jason said softly. "A little girl. Seven years old and she…" Jason's throat tightened. Finding it hard to speak he tried to keep himself from breaking. "I held her _heart_ in my hands, Ratchet! I tried to keep it going, I tried to keep her alive, but I couldn't! I just couldn't…"

Jason's shoulder's shook as he tried to control himself, but despite that tears fell from his eyes, guilt ripping at his chest like a starving wild animal. Human culture often dictated that men didn't cry. Females were allowed to cry, but never men. To cry was a sign of weakness. Ratchet considered the philosophy to be ludicrous.

As they continued to drive towards Jason's house, Ratchet found himself unable to comfort his friend as humans often did, even if he wanted to. All he could do was provide silent support and allow Jason to know that he was there and listening. Jason, exhausted from being sleep deprived for nearly two straight days, fell asleep in his seat. Ratchet veered from his street and continued to drive around town, venturing on the highway once of twice. It was difficult to get Jason to sleep as it was and Ratchet couldn't find it in his spark to wake him up to go into the house. Playing soft music from satellite radio, the medic tried his best to make Jason feel as comfortable as possible.

* * *

"Human's are _weird_ ," Sides uttered to himself.

Glen and his cousin were currently playing some sort of dancing video game up in his room. Every so often he'd hear the boys' grandmother scream and holler at them only to be told to shut up. Sideswipe wasn't sure if he should find the obvious disrespect for their elder humorous or just plain awful. The Autobot warrior sat on the driveway, bored out of his circuits. Glen, as smart as he was, was very irresponsible when he gave Sides free reign. While tempted to go for a late night drive he didn't want to go alone so he was like a sulking puppy left at home while the family went out. He had already tried his twin's com-link twice only to be ignored. Sunny had been in a weird funk lately anyway.

When Sideswipe and Sunstreaker arrived on Earth, the Autobots were there to greet them. It was at the meeting where they learned the unfortunate news that Jazz had been killed by Megatron. Sides wanted to go looking for the evil leader of the Decepticons only to be informed that he was also kill and by none other than Bumblebee's human, Sam, by shoving the All Spark into the Decepticons chest where the clashing energy of Megatron's spark and the cube imploded and killed him. Sideswipe, while relieved that Megatron was dead, also had a little regret that he didn't get the opportunity to take out the mech himself. Though, that probably would have happened anyways. Megatron and Optimus had seemed to have this fated battle for eons that no one could interfere on if they tired.

With their first-lieutenant gone and the Internet as their only source of, sometime unreliable, information about earth, it's people and their customs, Optimus informed them that they would receive human partners that would educate them on a more personal level on human culture. Sides was curious and Sunny was disinterested. The same day they were introduced to Maggie Madsen and Glen Whitmann. Both computer geniuses, they were both partly responsible for getting the US military not to act irrationally when world communication was cut as well as getting a hold of the air force to get fighters to Mission City.

Sideswipe ended up partnered with Glen and it was up in the air as to if that was a good decision on Optimus's part. The two were a mischievous duo, getting into harmless trouble and playing pranks, especially on Ironhide since the hard-ass had the most explosive reaction to them. Sometimes they managed to involve Maggie and Sunny, but the two, while laughing just as hard as anyone else, always tried to be the more mature half of the four, though Maggie had a startling sense of humor that Glen didn't even know about until Sides and Sunny came along.

Sides was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice the loud music stop until Glen appeared in the front doorway. The hacker was grinning almost madly as he made his way towards the red Lamborghini jingling a set of keys in the air. Sides really didn't need the keys, but they represented that they were going out. Finally!

"Glen!" a screechy voice cried. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going out, Grandma!" Glen yelled back just as loudly.

"It's almost midnight!" she yelled again wobbling into sight. "Where the hell you goin' at midnight?"

"I'm going for a drive!"

"That's wasting gas, you stupid ass!" she shrieked. "I'm not paying for your gas!"

"I'll buy my own gas!"

"How? You ain't got a job! You ain't got any money!"

"Grandma!" the twenty-five year old shouted. "Shut up! I'll be back later!"

"Don't come back at all for all I care!"

"Maybe I won't!"

"Good!"

"Fine!"

The door slammed in Glen's face and he sighed. "Crap."

"You know she doesn't mean that," Sides laughed softly.

"That's what you think," he said getting into the driver's seat.

Without waiting for Glen to turn the ignition, Sides started up on his own and pulled out of the drive. Pulling onto the main street, Sides went five over the speed limit to keep up with the flow of traffic until they got on the highway.

"Man, I need my own place."

"Then get one."

"It's not that easy."

"You do have a job with the government now."

"Yeah, a top secret job," Glen stated with some pride. "But if I start waving cash around people would get suspicious, especially my grandma. She was pretty freaked when I came home with a Lamborghini and told her we were moving to Tranquility, Nevada. I'm like a secret agent or something, y'know. I gotta keep my cover."

"Then just lie to your grandma and tell her you do have a job at some computer store or something."

"I could…" Glen said thoughtfully.

"Or you could live with Maggie."

"Are you out of your freaky robo mind?" Glen said in aghast. "I can't live with Maggie!"

"Why not?" Sides asked, genuinely confused.

"Do you have any idea what that would do to our relationship?"

"…No."

"Things would get complicated man," Glen stated with an all knowing tone. "Maggie is the clingy type. She's going to have expectations that I may not be able to fill at this present moment in my life. I am a free man, Sides. I don't need a woman to mess up what I got going for me."

"But how would things get messed up if you're just living with her? It doesn't mean that you're together, right?"

"See, I know that and you know that, but Maggie doesn't know that."

Sideswipe internally pondered Glen's words. He honestly didn't think that Glen was giving Maggie enough credit and overestimating the friendliness of their relationship. Maggie had never displayed in type of interest in Glen that would indicate that she wanted to mate with him like humans typically did. As far as Sideswipe could tell, the blond only thought of Glen as a close friend. But Glen was human so he probably understood human woman better then he did, so Sides let it go. Glen would eventually get his own place. After living with his grandma for so long it was only a matter of time before he just couldn't take it anymore or even more likely that his grandma wouldn't be able to take it and would kick him out for real. And Sides didn't really think that he could take the old woman throwing things that him again in a attempt to break the windshield to get to Glen.

"So where are we going?" Glen asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "Wanna stop by Maggie's?"

"Man, did you not hear anything I just said?"

"I'm not saying you're moving in," Sides said exasperatedly. "I just want to see what their up to."

"Sleeping."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's midnight and Maggie can't stay up past ten if she tried."

"Well, I'm bored."

"You're always bored."

"You know, Bumblebee and Ratchet tell me how exciting Earth can be and I have yet to see anything remotely exciting."

Glen frowned thoughtfully and made his suggestion, "Want to go to the beach?"

"The beach?" Sides asked skeptically.

"Yeah."

"Where there's sand? Lots and lots of sand?" Sideswipe moaned. "I hate sand."

"Oh, don't be such a baby. You sound like your brother."

"Hey, you don't like sand in uncomfortable places either so don't go judging me."

"Well, I want to go to the beach. Take me to the beach."

"I'm not your chauffer."

"Yeah, you kinda are."

"I hate sand."

"Oh, come on!"

Sideswipe growled but took off in the direction of the Tranquil Lake Park. There were no police on patrol and no sunbathers at night so as soon a Glen stepped out Sideswipe transformed into his bipedal mode and followed Glen towards the lake. It wasn't a very big lake, but there were no houses nearby which gave them a sense of privacy. Glen sat in the sand beside the large robot merely gazing out across the shoreline of the lake lit up by the moon. Sides scanned the area, picking up life signs of small animals. He didn't like sitting and doing nothing like this. Glen told him that he had ADD, which he looked up, of course, before stating that he had no condition of the sort. It may be hard to keep his attention at times, but he was always alert when he needed to be.

"I'm still bored," he said.

"Man, you need to learn how to chill," Glen replied.

"I can chill."

"Then look around you. If your buddies hadn't beat Megatron then all of this," he waved wildly around him, "would be gone."

Sides titled his head and looked down at the human, his gaze a mixture of awe and worry. "You're acting strange."

Glen sighed, looking down at his toes as he wiggled and buried them in the sand. "Yeah, I know. I used to hate the outdoors. I hate swimming, I hate camping, but when I think about it," he looked back out to the water, "all of this could've been destroyed if Sam hadn't pushed the cube into Megatron's chest. Like, there would be nothing left. And when I think about it all being gone I don't hate it so much anymore." He looked up at Sideswipe, who was paying close attention to him. "What I'm saying is that I feel grateful that humans have all of this to look at. We're really lucky."

Sideswipe was silent for a moment before saying, "Glen…that was really deep," he teased. "If I had tear ducts I think I would've shed a tear."

"Shut up, man!" Glen hollered indigently. "I was having a moment."

"I know. I'll look at Earth's scenery a little more closely now if you promise no more moments like that."

Glen grumbled, shifting in the sand and Sides was sure he heard Glen call him a 'stupid bitch-bot' or something along those lines. Looking out toward the water, a small smile came to his face. With the moonlight shining down on the water and the sound of the waves rolling up on the shore even Sides had to admit that it was very peaceful. Mimicking Glen's position and leaning back on his hands he didn't talk anymore and just watched the water think that Earth was a pretty nice planet after all.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to give a little insight to the relationship with other Autobots and their contacts. Hope you liked it.

Please Review!


	6. In Which the Evidence Steals Itself

5\. In Which the Evidence Steals Itself

Jeffery was sitting in his office; face practically buried in a thick file, his glasses sitting low on his nose. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes wearily. Peyton's reports were almost too thorough. Nothing was supposed to be this thorough. Flaws are what made humans human, but his goddaughter considered herself weak in almost all aspects except for when it came to her work. He thought about when she was a little girl in pigtails, playing dress up, playing the piano, and singing at Christmas into a hairbrush like it was a microphone. Before her father's murder she had wanted to be a singer and she did have a wonderful voice. She didn't sing much anymore. Occasionally, he'd catch her humming softly to herself while working. It was amusing to watch as she went from microscope to microscope singing some song that he couldn't recognize from the radio.

Today Peyton was scheduled to be in the garage all day, tearing the Peterbilt apart. Kelly offered to help, but as always Peyton turned her down. It wasn't that she was horrible with team work, but when something really mattered to her she preferred to work alone rather then constantly worry about what other people were doing. While they all were still unsure as to what role the truck played in the murder he theorized that it had nothing to really do with it, but when it came up unregistered he to grew suspicious.

His attention was drawn to a form moving into his office. He smiled and looked up at a familiar pair of brown eyes. "Good afternoon."

Peyton waved as she dropped into the seat across from his desk. "Hey."

"Looking forward to today?"

Peyton slumped in her seat. "Yep," she said, popping the 'p' sarcastically.

"Are you sure you don't want to pass it off?"

"Positive."

"Alright," Jeffery said skeptically. "I had Carter take everything to the garage for you."

If Peyton's eyes were able to shoot laser beams, Jeffery would have been a smoldering pile of ash. "Calm down," he said. "He's not tagging along. He's got court today for his quadruple so he'll be out of the building."

Peyton's eyebrows rose into her hairline. "That was quick."

"Sure was," Jeffery said, lacing his fingers under his chin. "The daughter. I'm sure you read the case file behind his back."

She grinned. "Maybe."

"Well then it's only fair that he read yours."

"…What?"

"All's fair in love and war."

"There is no love, only war. And I cannot believe you let him do that!"

"Well, you did too."

"Whatever," she said aloofly. "I already knew it was the daughter from the first page."

Jeffery grinned behind his hands. "Of course you did."

Peyton pursed her lips. "I'm going to leave now," she said. "And I'm not talking to you for the rest of the day." She got up from the chair and headed for the door.

"Right," he replied smugly. "I'll see you at lunch."

"No you won't," she shot over her shoulder. "I'm working straight through lunch so I can get off early."

"You?" he asked, mockingly shocked. "Get off early? I didn't know you knew the meaning of the phrase."

"Surprise!" she said, hands waving enthusiastically. "Maybe I'll eat in the garage. I just said that so you wouldn't worry about me eating at all, by the way."

Jeffery's smile changed into one of half amusement and half genuine concern. "Don't stay up too late."

"I can't promise you that, but I'll try."

"I'll talk to you later then?"

"Later."

Turning on her heel she left the office, heading for the lab. Before she went to the truck she wanted to check the other evidence she had gathered from the crime scene just in case she missed something. Really, she was just putting off the truck's destruction for a little while longer. Maybe she'd find something that would point her away from it.

Checking her evidence took a lot longer then she thought. Finally looking at her watch she was startled to see that almost half of her shift was done. She had checked, DNA, fingerprints, the two sets of shoe prints found near the body and the photos of the crime scene and the body. There were bruises on the victim's arms from having been held down. His elbows were bent, his hands by his head and each hand only a had a few defensive marks indicating he had been surprised by the attack and had really no time to defend himself. The total amount of stab wounds Almaraz's torso was seventeen, which was much more then necessary given the accuracy of the stabbing and the long, serrated blade used punctured his vital organs. However, a few of the stab wounds were almost hesitant, not penetrating nearly as deep as the later ones, indicating that perhaps the one who did stab Almaraz was not all to eager to do it at first.

She ran the print from the truck in the database. It didn't come up with anything, so they had no priors. The wife volunteered a DNA sample and a straight alibi so she was off the hook having been at her mother's than evening with the kids after a fight with her late husband. The time of her absence was consistent with the estimated time of death so no one in the immediate family was suspected.

The blond hair found on the body was tested and it came back XX and was consistent with the blood on the truck door and the Pseudomonas aeruginosa, the bacteria that made the person's blood glow with specks of yellow. The hair was torn out during the struggle to get Almaraz on the ground and the one who stabbed him was a woman, but the DNA under his fingers nails came back XY. Running that through the database it came back as Julian Kent. About a decade ago he was sent away for armed robbery and just got out, but she really didn't see the tie between him and the victim. Kent had already been arrested about seven hours ago and was sitting in a cell, charged with first degree murder. Though the DNA put him at the scene, Kent was claiming that he was trying to help the man before he bled to death. When Almaraz died, Kent panicked and ran, having just gotten out of prison three days ago. Something in his eyes made Peyton call his story bullshit.

For one, he would've had to try and help him while Almaraz was being stabbed given the victim had died before the final stab due to so many blows to his heart and lungs. Kent had long scratches on the side of his neck from were Almaraz had scratched him. But what was the relationship?

Peyton moved onto Kent's hearing files and was met with something very startling. Julian Kent's partner had testified against him in reward for a lesser sentence. His partner's name was Alberto Pérez, who served a total of two years most of it spent at a minimal security prison. Looking through the file she was put out to see that there were no pictures of the partner until she got to a wide shot that managed to sneak the witness stand off to the far side of the photo. Frowning at the picture she looked closer until her eyes hurt and the blurred face began clear to her. Alberto Pérez was Hector Almaraz. It would make sense if Almaraz went into protective services and changed his name after agreeing to testify given Kent's track record.

Peyton practically bolted out of the lab and down the hall towards Jeffery's office, but he was gone. Cursing under her breath, she briskly walked around corners and co-workers trying to find her boss. She found him in the middle of an autopsy. Through on a face mask she rushed in a grabbed his arm, apologizing profusely to the coroner, before promptly dragging him out.

"Peyton!" Jeffery seethed angrily, ripping his arm out of her grip. "What the hell is the matter with you? I was in the middle of a—"

"Revenge!" she interrupted.

"What?"

"Julian Kent! Hector Almaraz was his partner. Almaraz testified against him and Kent killed him for revenge. Motive!"

Jeffery looked slightly startled. "How do you know this? There's no mention of Almaraz in Kent's file, I already looked."

"Because his real name was Alberto Pérez. After his sentence his name was changed. Kent found him and killed him."

"Okay…then what about the female DNA?"

"…I don't know yet."

"Peyton—"

"We'll get Kent to talk," she said. "Maybe he'll give us a name."

"Talk to Miller," he said. "I'm sure he'd love another chance to get Kent back in the interrogation room again."

"I'm on it."

Jeffery grabbed her arm before she could take off. "Are you going to strip that truck today?"

"I don't have to anymore," she stated, pleased. "It has nothing to do with this."

Jeffery titled his head questionably. "How do you know that?"

"Kent doesn't drive a truck."

"What about the woman?"

"…Oh, yeah."

"Don't let your excitement get the best of you," he said in a lecturing tone. "The truck is still evidence."

"Yeah, I guess."

Jeffery let go of her arm and crossed his. "Are you sure you don't want to pass it off to someone else? I can tell you don't want to do it."

She shook her head. "No, I got it. I don't want to but it doesn't mean I won't."

"Okay then. Talk to Miller and then take care of the truck. Understood?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"Now, it you'll excuse me," he said. "I have a dead scuba diver in there."

Peyton perked up. "Really?"

"That's not even the best part," Jeffery said, walking towards the door. "He was found in a tree."

"…You're kidding."

"I kid you not."

She frowned at him. "Why do you get the interesting ones?"

"Because I'm the boss," he said before disappearing back into the room.

She rolled her eyes and headed back for the lab to clean up her mess, calling Miller's cell on the way to let him know what she discovered. While she took care of the truck, she called Kelly to help with the interrogation. She walked into the lab only to find Carter standing over her work, his nose in her file.

"What are you doing?"

Carter looked up and grinned at her. "Court was recessed until tomorrow so I thought I'd take the time to see what everyone was up to." He pointed at the file. "I think I figured it out for you."

"Hector Almaraz is really Alberto Pérez and he was Julian Kent's partner and sold him out for a lesser sentence. Kent killed him for revenge. Already got it," she said as quickly as possible.

"What about the XX?"

Her eyes narrowed irritably. "Still working on it." She swiped the file from his hands. "If you'll excuse me, I have a truck to destroy so if you would…" She gestured to the door.

Carter held his hands up and headed for the door. "Don't let me stop you."

Peyton watched him until he left before putting everything back into its boxes for Kelly. With everything neatly organized and filed she headed for the garage. Not sparing Carter a single glance as she walked past him.

* * *

Optimus watched Peyton enter the garage and drop the load in her arms heavily on the table with a thud. She yelped as she lost her footing, grabbing the table to keep herself from face planting on the floor. The table was already covered in various tools, many of which Optimus had already determined to be used for dismantling vehicles. Peyton sighed heavily and wiped the sweat that had formed on her brow from carrying such a heavy box. She pulled off her jacket leaving her in jeans and a white tank top. Around her waist, attached to her belt was her gun and her cell phone, both of which she kept on. She stared up at him for a good minute, looking downright disappointed as she pulled her sandy blond hair into a messy ponytail. Walking to the table she pulled on a pair of working gloves and a pair of protective glasses.

Optimus had watched the human male, Carter, bring in the assortment of tools and contemplated his next move. Clearly, Peyton intended to take him apart apparently to find some sort of hidden clue pertaining to the murder she was investigating. She wouldn't find anything, but he knew what she would find and that would not pose well for neither the Autobots cover on earth as well as himself physically.

Peyton went to the driver side door and tried to open it. Optimus held it shut. Huffing, she went back to the table and grabbed a crowbar, muttering under her breath. "Sorry, buddy," she said, "this is going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you."

Optimus seriously doubted that.

Peyton reared back as the truck's engine roared to life. He couldn't stay any longer especially at the risk of being dismantled. He wouldn't hurt her. No, instead he would help her acquire the truth that she strived for, even at risk of exposing himself. But he couldn't do that here.

Tired squealing, he sped backwards taking out the garage door in one hit. Fishtailing around Optimus shifted into drive and took off, also taking out the metal gate that prevented trespassers.

* * *

Peyton stared after the truck helplessly. "Hey!"

She ran for her Grand Prix parked out side the garage. Throwing herself into the driver's seat and started the engine and took off after the truck, barely remembering to put her seatbelt on. She took off the gloves and tossed them and the glasses into the passenger seat and arched off the seat to get her cell phone out of its holster, slamming her thumb into the keypad, speed dialing a certain individual.

"Jeffery! It's Peyton. I need police assist now heading south from the garage and towards I-15. Someone is stealing the truck!"

"What?" Jeffery cried hoarsely over the static. "Peyton…-aking up…Pey…"

"I'm going after them. Call Miller!"

"Peyton, n…wai—"

Peyton ignored her boss's angry and concerned plea and snapped her phone shut, tossing it over in the passenger seat as well. Reaching forward to her dash she turned on her revolving light. It wasn't very difficult to keep the truck in sight given the color it was. Sure enough it got onto I-15, stealthy avoiding other drivers. Thankfully, the highway was also strangely deserted. The truck was doing well over ninety, forcing her to do the same. She swore when the truck veered off the road into a large thicket of tall grass and bushes and sparse trees.

She wasn't a cop. As a CSI what she was doing was a huge violation of protocol, but throwing caution into the wind she followed the speeding truck into the Las Vegas desert. The truck turned quickly with agility a big rig shouldn't even have. Whoever this guy was must have been an expert on trucks. As if to reassure herself, she placed a hand over her 9mm before flooring the petal and taking off to get closer.

Pulling out her gun she aimed at one of the rear tired and shot a single round. It must have been beginner's luck, because while she knew how to shoot she had never shot out of a moving car at another moving car before. The truck swerved hard to the right. Peyton followed, still surprised at herself for even hitting it though it didn't look like she had blown the tire she was aiming for. The truck suddenly slammed on the breaks, forcing her to swerve left, right into a tree. Of course she managed to hit one of the five trees out here. So much for lucky.

The airbag deployed as she pitched forward, her left hand slamming into the door frame of her car, fingers cracking painfully against the force. Sitting back she lifted her hand towards her face and stared at her fingers, all of which looked like fat gray sausages. As the powder from the airbag started to burn her face and hands she grabbed her gun that had dropped to the floor and got out of the car, cradling her throbbing hand to her chest. Aiming at the driver's door of the truck she tried to think of what a cope would say in a situation like this.

"A-Alright!" She cringed at the sound of her voice cracking. "I want to see your hands, now!"

Nothing.  
"I mean it," she tried again. "Show me your hands and step out of the truck slowly!"

Silence.

"I'm not fucking kidding around!"

"You're injured," a voice boomed from the truck.

It surprised her how loud it was, like he was talking into a megaphone. It nearly knocked her on her ass as she backtracked very quickly. "Shut up and show yourself!"

The truck door remained closed and she found herself getting increasingly pissed off. Stepping forward she pushed herself up on the step, keeping her head down as she reached for the door handle. Pulling it open, she leapt back and aimed her gun at an empty seat.

"W-What?" she whispered to herself.

She cautiously climbed up again, keeping her weapon in front of her as she crawled into the cabin. No one was there. The passenger door was shit and she couldn't see anyone running in the distance. She walked around the truck as well and still saw no one. No tracks, nothing. Staring at the truck a frightening suggestion passed through her mind, but she squashed it quickly, shaking her head at the nonsense of the idea as she stomped towards her truck.

"Trucks don't drive themselves," she told herself.

Switching her gun back to safety she tossed it on the seat of her car and grabbed her violently vibrating phone. She sighed when she saw the thirteen missed calls, twelve from Jeffery and one from her mom that came with a voice mail asking her to come over for dinner tonight. _Pot roast sounds great right now_ , she thought as she stared at her totaled car. How was she going to explain this?

* * *

Optimus wasn't a medic, but the ability to access the Internet allowed his to understand human bone structure. Peyton wasn't gravely injured, but she was holding her left hand, her fingers painfully swollen and discolored.

"You're fingers are dislocated," he said to her.

Peyton gasped and whirled around, falling into her car with the recent face lift. Snatching her gun, she marched over to him and pointed it pointblank at his windshield.

"Okay, that's it," she said. "What the hell it going on?"

"You're injured. I cannot be sure if you have received any head trauma, but your fingers are dislocated. Should I call for help?" he asked.

"No!" she shrieked, seemingly unaffected by the kind gesture of an assumed criminal. "Whoever you are, you stole evidence for a homicide. Not only will you got to prison for tampering with _evidence_ you'll going to prison for _grand theft auto_!"

"I can assure you that I had nothing to do with the murder of the human."

"Human?" she repeated to herself. "And, yeah, well I don't know that yet. So come out. Now."

"Please lower your weapon."

"What? No!"

"I will not reveal myself until you do," Optimus stated sternly and Peyton momentarily felt like a child. "You have already shot at me once, but I promise you I will not hurt you."

"How do I know that, huh?" she demanded aggressively. "I'm not stupid."

"I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

"Oh, right!" she spat. "You expect me to trust a guy who _steals_ from police garages?"

"I understand the conundrum of what I am asking, but yes."

"How about no?"

"Then I'm going to have to refuse your demands."

"Fine then," Peyton replied snidely. "I'm just going to call for backup. How does that sound?"

Optimus sighed. "Not pleasant."

"Then come out."

"No."

"What the hell?" she cried, stomping her foot.

"You'll _shoot_ me."

"No I _won't_."

"You already _did_."

"I _promise_ I won't shoot you again then." She paused. "Unless, you know, you give me a reason to."

"How can I trust that?"

Peyton considered his words silently. Grumbling, she switched her gun to safety and placed it in its holster. Stepping back, she waited mentally calling herself brain damaged. Nothing stirred within the truck. She couldn't see anyone moving and both door remained shut. She was about to start yelling again when its grill popped forwards and the headlights lifted high from the body. Oh, he was revealing himself alright. Peyton stared up in awe and terror while the truck grew in size and became more humanoid. Stumbling back she fell unceremoniously on her butt as a giant red and blue robot towered over her looking down at her with glowing blue eyes.

"Oh…my…"

"My name is Optimus Prime and I…please put the gun down."

Peyton had her gun out in defense, but she seriously doubted that it'd help her in the situation she was now it, unless she managed to hit both of its eyes without it stepping on her. Crawling backwards, she wonder if she could out run the thing. Probably, not, but it didn't stop her from trying. Taking off towards the roar, she ignored the seemingly exasperated sigh that came from the monster behind her, but not the booming footfalls that followed her.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod," she panted repeatedly.

She was nearly in view of the highways when an army green Jeep Wrangler rolled out of the thicket and cut her off. Two men were inside staring at her with equal surprise. In the driver's seat was a cowboy and in the passenger seat was an army guy. She halted in front of them, momentarily staring at the duo with a confused frown. The soldier hopped out of the jeep and rushed to her.

"Hey, hey!" he said, grabbing her shoulders. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

Peyton opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a garbled, "Oh my God you gotta help me! There's this…t-this _thing_! A really BIG _thing_! And he's…he's coming this way and…and he's BIG and, and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa calm down," the soldier tried. "What thing?"

The footsteps slowed to a walk and Optimus appeared from behind a large rock face.

"That!" she shrieked, diving behind the soldier.

The man looked up at the giant robot, but it was in neither surprise nor fear. "Hey, man," he greet. "We were just talking about you. You making it a habit to chase pretty girls through the desert like some slasher flick?"

"Sergeant Epps," Optimus greeted respectfully. "I know how this must seem."

Peyton's eyes were currently bulging out of her head.

"Optimus, sir," a southern drawl came from behind.

The robot actually smiled a little. "Hound."

The Jeep Wrangled pull the same switcheroo as the Peterbilt and Peyton was left gapping at another giant robot, though not as tall as the first. She was pretty much on the boarder line of wetting her pants at this point.

"Where ya been, sir?" Hound asked expectantly. "Ya weren't there the other day."

"I apologize, Hound," Optimus said sincerely. "I was…" he glanced down at Peyton, "detained."

Peyton couldn't hold it back anymore. "What the _fuck_ is going on?"

Epps looked over at Peyton as she verged on a panic attack. "Uh, look, you need to calm down, alright?" he said as soothingly as possible. "I know this is probably real messed up right now, but really, these guys aren't going to hurt you."

"Not going to hurt me?" she asked tersely.

"Nope. They're the good guys."

"They're robots!"

"Well, yeah…that too."

Peyton didn't wait for him to explain further and took off like a shot for the road. The one called Hound moved slightly to the left, stepping in front of her, preventing escape.

"Ms. Callaghan, please calm down," Optimus attempted gently.

"Calm down?" she cried, her voice cracking. "How do you expect me to calm down? And how do you know my name?"

"I heard it from your co-workers," he explained.

"So this entire time you…you were there and…and listening and… _being_?" What she said didn't really make sense to her either. "I can't believe this."

Epps rubbed the back of his head, chuckling humorlessly. "Believe it."

Peyton looked at him. "How long have you know about…?" She looked at Hound then Optimus again.

"Giant, alien robots?" Epps suggested. "About half a year now. Remember the terrorist attack on Mission City?"

Peyton's eyes widened. "No way…All those people? They really weren't…?"

"Lying about the giant robo death match? Obviously not."

"If you will allow us to explain we will," Optimus stated, taking a hesitant step forward. "But you have to calm down."

"This isn't happening," she whimpered to herself. "I'm losing it. I'm totally losing it!"

Peyton felt more than overwhelmed. The stress of the past five years, from her father's murder and everything between seemed to finally catch up with her with devastating results. Her chest felt tight. Her stomach felt like a soccer call constantly getting kicked around and she could feel the reflexive gag like she was going to throw up but only she couldn't.

Panicked, she gasped to breathe, but found it difficult, which only added to her lightheadedness and she panicked further, swaying on her feet.

"Uh, you might wanna catch her," the smaller robot said. "She's goin' down."

Peyton was vaguely aware of a pair of strong arms coming under hers as her knees gave out. She was gently lowered to the dirt and last fleeting thought she had as she looked up into those concerned glowing blue eyes towering above her was that it looked like she was going to miss out on that pot roast tonight.

* * *

A/N: Not much different about this chapter. Maybe the dialogues a bit different, but for the most part, still the same. Hope you liked it.

Please Review!


	7. Prime Conversations

6\. Prime Conversations

Jeffery stalked down the hall, very angry and very worried. He had just gotten a call from Miller saying they had found Peyton's car, totaled from crashing into a tree. There were trace amounts of blood on the steering wheel, but nothing that would indicate that the crash was fatal. But Peyton wasn't there. The semi was also MIA though there was already a BOLO out on both of them, especially because a CSI had gone missing as well.

The supervisor rattled less then positive ideas in his mind when it came to the fate of his goddaughter while at the same time tossing in some adjectives to correlate with her such as stupid, irresponsible, and reckless. Stopping in the middle of the hall he slammed his fist into a wall startling everyone that happened to be around him at the moment. He didn't look sorry as he continued to make his way towards his office. Miller was standing there already looking grim.

"There's nothing," he said softly. "They found tire treads from the truck and a smaller off-road vehicle driving side by side until they reached the road. We have no idea where they are now."

That wasn't what Jeffery wanted to hear. "I want every cop on this, _now_ ," he said fiercely. "As far as I'm concerned this is the _only_ crime in Vegas tonight."

Miller huffed a heavy breath, but still nodded and left the office. Jeffery whipped out his cell phone and called Kelly, Carter, and Grant into his office. They were there within the minute. Kelly gnawed on her lip anxiously while Grant seemed to be a little more composed. Jeffery subtlety looked over to Carter. His face was unusually pale and his eyes remained downcast.

"Kelly, Carter; you're with me at the scene. If you think for a second that it's some sort of evidence I want it bagged and processed."

"Right," Kelly affirmed.

Carter nodded as well, looking up at his boss and mentor, his eyes angry, worried and held something else that wasn't totally recognizable.

"Grant," Jeffery turned to toward the Korean man, "I want you with Miller on I-15 getting speed cameras. I want to see that truck on one of them with any off-road vehicle you can pick up with a license plate number clear as day."

"Yes, sir," Grant replied.

"Get to work."

With that dismissal, they didn't stick around for small talk or ask any questions, each going to grab their equipment. Jeffery dropped into his chair, holding his weary face in his hands. Now alone, he released a shaky sigh that was mixed with a strangled sob. His cell phone started buzzing wildly on his desk. Looking up and wiping the tears that had managed to escape his eyes he looked at the caller ID and cursed under his breath at the name illuminated on the screen.

What the hell was he going to tell Ellen?

* * *

She awoke when the truck jostled under her. Opening her eyes, she didn't dare move. She was in the back of the semi, lying on a bench seat. Her head throbbed hard enough to blur her vision momentarily. On the floor between the front seats, she could see her bag and idly wondered who went to her car and grabbed it. As steady as possible and trying to keep her breathing regular, Peyton reached for her hip where her gun should have been. The holster was empty.

"Sergeant Epps took your weapon and your phone," a deep voice said from the radio. "We relieved them while you were unconscious."

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

"You fainted," was the simple reply.

"Yeah," she spat sarcastically. "Clearly."

The voice didn't reply to her sarcasm. Slowly getting up, she moved to the front of the truck, watching in mute fascination as the steering wheel moved on its own. Cautiously she sat on the passenger side and watched it. As they came upon a large green road sign, she could see a list of towns, all with varying distances.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We are approximately forty-six miles from the city of Tranquility."

"Why are you taking me there?" Peyton asked. "This is kidnapping."

"I am afraid I might have revealed myself to you prematurely," Optimus said. "In Tranquility there are other humans who know of our existence and we have come to call them our friends. I thought it would be best for you to meet them."

"Pull over and let me out right now."

"I cannot do that."

"You have no right to take me anywhere."

"In revealing myself to you, you have been made aware of our presence, which under the NBE Contact Protocol I have to take you in for debriefing."

"What the hell is an NBE?"

"A non-biological extraterrestrial."

Peyton's breathe caught in her throat. "What are you?"

"We are autonomous robotic life forms from a planet called Cybertron. For short, we go by Autobots."

"Autobots," she whispered, feeling foreign word roll off her tongue. "You're aliens."

"Yes."

"I can't believe this," she whispered, her eyes wide. Peyton tentatively leaned back in the seat. "How many of you are here exactly?"

"There are several of my kind currently residing on this planet. Some are… _friendlier_ than others," he replied cryptically. "Our newest comrade, you have just met."

Looking in the side mirror, she could see the Jeep Wrangler driving behind them and a name popped into her head. "Hound, right?"

"That's right."

"And you're taking me to Tranquility because that's where your secret alien base is?"

"We do not have a 'secret alien base,'" he said with a tone of amusement. "I am taking you to Tranquility because there are other humans there that are far better suited to explain to you what has been going on this passed year."

"So Mission City," she began, "all those viral videos were real?"

"A handful of the city's citizens managed to obtain videos of the battle through digital cameras and mobile devices and post them on the Internet. While nearly all were eventually removed it was still too late. Between the thirty-six videos posted they collectively received well over 100 billion hits."

Peyton ran her uninjured hand through her hair. "I can't believe this," she said again.

"Most humans have difficulty accepting it at first. It is why your government has been trying to keep us secret from the public for the time being."

She laughed dryly. "Of course the government knows! You'd think they'd put out a warning for law enforcement, but no. I put a giant alien robot into evidence! Oh, my…I was going to tear you apart!" Dropping her face into her hands, she tried to breathe deeply.

"Hence why I decided it was time to leave."

"Yeah, sorry about that," she apologized sheepishly. "If I had known you were _alive_ I would've…" she chuckled to herself, "probably freaked out anyway."

Optimus' voice was friendly. "Think nothing of it. You didn't know."

"So, I'm going to go out on a limb," she began, "and say you are the good guys. I saw some of those videos myself."

"Ideally."

"And you said your name was…Optimus, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I guess it's nice to meet you, Optimus. I'd introduce myself, but you already know my name."

"Peyton Callaghan age twenty-five, CSI level two. Born December 30, 1982 and the only child of Michael and Ellen Callaghan."

Peyton blinked dumbly. "Whoa," she said. "Kinda creepy."

"It's not difficult to find information on individual humans through the Internet."

"Where did you find that?"

"The Las Vegas crime lab's employee files."

"Huh," she mused. "Anything else you learn about me from the Internet."

"Your supervisor," he said, "Jeffery Ellis, is listed as one of your emergency contacts. He is also your godfather."

Peyton sat up, startled. "Oh shit, Jeffery! He's probably looking for me. He'd probably the entire city looking for me! You! _Us!"_

"We had better hurry then."

Peyton watched as the petal on the floor went down, the engine revving as the semi sped up the jeep behind them keeping up. She grabbed her seatbelt out of habit and put it on. She wondered how long it had been since she passed out and was taken. But by now there had to be a BOLO out on them, but she didn't see any patrol cars on the road. She supposed she should've considered them lucky.

"Optimus," a southern accented voice said through the radio, "we have five squad cars and one chopper inbound to our position."

Then again, maybe not.

"ETA?"

"Five minutes. I'll use a cloak, hold on."

"A cloak?" Peyton asked. "What's that?"

"It'll change Optimus' appearance so he ain't so noticeable. I mean really, sir. Flames? Ya stick out like a sore thumb."

There was a grin in Optimus' voice. "Duly noted."

Hound was silent for a moment. "Alright, yer all set. Basic, rusty, old white. The license plate is Utah 349 BPQ. They should move right passed us."

"Alright," Optimus said. "Let's put some space between us."

"You got it."

Optimus moved into the far right lane when permitted and slowed it down to a more legal speed for a semi truck. Hound remained where he was, speeding past them. Keeping a few car lengths ahead in a separate lane.

"Peyton," Optimus said, "I need you to sit in the driver seat. It needs to look like someone is driving."

Peyton swallowed nervously, but took off her seatbelt and moved over into the seat. Grabbing the seatbelt, she put it on and tentatively put her hands on the steering wheel. She didn't hold on to it though, letting it slide through her hands.

"Here they come," Hound said.

Looking in the side mirror, Peyton could see the tell-tale lights on top of the squad cars and hear the whirl of the chopper blades. They weren't flashing, not yet, but they were getting closer. Anyone in a position of being kidnapped would be grateful to see such a sight, but Peyton only felt uneasy. She didn't know what would happen if they were made. Last minute, she reached for her bag and pulled out her LVPD hat. Putting her hair into a ponytail, she stuffed it under the hat hoping that it would make her look a little less like herself.

"Relax," Optimus said gently.

Peyton released her breath slowly and forced her shoulders down and sat back in the seat. "I'm good," she assured. "I'm good." She was pretty sure that second one was for herself.

The cop cars came up along side them and slowed on Optimus' left. She could feel the eyes of the cops inside and mentally wagered if she knew them or not. They didn't stick around for long however. While Optimus may have still been a Peterbilt his color and license seemed to be enough. Peyton released a heavy breath. Just to be safe, however, Hound kept the cloak up for the rest of the trip. Peyton remained in the driver's seat, hands clasped in her lap, watching almost hypnotically as the steering wheel twisted and jerked. When they arrived in Tranquility Peyton still wondered if there was a secret alien base, but alas, she was left surprised when Optimus headed towards the park on the edge of town. On a moderately high cliff, inaccessible to people, Optimus and Hound drove up the steep hilled side to get to the top where Peyton was greeted by the sight of Tranquility below them.

It was the temporary meeting place for the Autobots until they were given a more permanent location. No humans came up this way mostly because they couldn't. The hill was too steep for Earth's vehicles and while the Autobots borrowed their forms they didn't borrow their limitations. It was as private as they were going to get while staying close to each other. It was a lot of ask for some of the contacts to leave the homes, such as Glen and Maggie, who left DC behind, but Optimus was hopeful that they would eventually have a base they could call their own.

The United States government was a little apprehensive about the idea of the Autobots having a base of operations for many legitimate reasons that Optimus couldn't fault the humans for. The current bill under review listed ordinances and guidelines as well as explanations for what the Autobots wanted to do while Earth, explaining that they only wished to help. The secret bill was still under a lot of speculation. The Autobots were unsure of its fate, given that there were so many levels that it needed to pass, not to mention the country was in political and economic turmoil while a new presidential election was being held, but Keller assure them that he was confident it would succeed.

With the Decepticons still outnumbering the Autobots and having probably already built their own base in secret the President would hopefully be enlightened by the situation as well as his successor. Decepticon activity, however, was very minimal and not enough to spark immediate alarm yet. But one could ask any Autobot and he would tell you that something was coming. They were only biding their time.

Optimus' door popped open and Peyton took that as her cue to get out. Once safely on the ground Optimus transformed. Standing at his full height, she found it hard to believe how big he really was.

Epps came up beside her, Hound standing behind him. "We called Ratchet on the way," he said, looking up at the Autobot commander. "He said he'd get a hold of everyone else and they would meet us here."

"Good," Optimus replied agreeably. Kneeling down he offered his hand to Peyton. "Come, there are some things we need to discuss before they arrive."

Peyton stared at his hand, knowing what was being asked of her, but unsure if she should do it. Looking nervously at Epps, he seemed curious as to what she would do, crossing his arms as he watched her. Releasing a heavy breath before biting her lip, she walked forward and climbed into his hand, holding onto his thumb as he stood. The warmth of his metal hand surprised her, not that all dissimilar to that of the hood of a car with a warm engine.

Hound and Epps watched the two walked some distance away from them where they wouldn't be overheard.

"Is he gonna ask her what I _think_ he'd gonna ask her?" Epps questioned while looking up at his new partner.

Hound thought for a moment, crossing his arms. "Possibly. Since everyone 'ere seems to want to keep us a secret it would only make sense that he'd ask her to stay with us."

"Man, oh, man, oh man…" Epps groaned.

"What's wrong now?" Hound asked exasperatedly.

"All of the contacts so far were involved with what happened a year ago from Sam using the Cube to kill Megatron, me and Will, even Jason was in the city the day of the battle. But this Peyton chick, it's almost like she's an outsider."

"Is that a problem?"

"It makes it easier for her to say no."

* * *

" _Gooooooooood morning San Franciscoooooo!"_

"No, Bumblebee, it's not morning yet…And this is not San Francisco."

" _Wake up! Grab a brush a put on a little makeup!"_

Sam groaned loudly into his pillow.

" _Oh, what a beautiful morning! Oh what a beautiful day! I got a beautiful feeling—"_

Sam shot up from his bed, armed with his pillow. "Shut up!" he cried, throwing the pillow through the window at the face peeking inside. "For all that is heavenly, friggin' sacred shut up! It's three in the morning!"

" _We have a situation. Orders from Starfleet. Return to base."_

"Situation?" Sam was suddenly wide awake and alert. "What's going on?"

" _No time. Wanna go for a ride?"_

Sam scrambled to get out of bed. His feet got tangled up in his sheets, resulting in him belly-flopping onto the floor with a startled yelp. Bee sighed, shaking his head while emitting a melancholy whistle. Sam popped to his feet, announcing he was okay before rushing to get dressed with only a little limp. Getting into a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt Sam met his drowsy parents in the hall and explained the situation. Judy didn't make nearly as big deal of it as her husband, merely waving her hand at her son before shuffling back to her room to go back to sleep. Judy was never really a morning person. Ron asked a few more questions but let his son go eventually. Grabbing his sweater and backpack on the way out to the driveway Bumblebee was already in his vehicle mode and ready to go.

"Are we going to pick up Mikaela?" Sam asked as he pulled his seatbelt on.

" _That's a 10-4 good buddy!"_

Bee's engine roared to life, speeding down the side streets until reaching the trailer park. Sam rushed to get out of the car. Running up to the door he knocked until a very disgruntled Mikaela answered the door, her dark hair ruffled from sleep.

"This better be good, Witwicky," she seethed. "You're lucky my aunt's not here."

"We need to go, now," Sam said bluntly. "Bee says something's up."

That woke Mikaela up. Looking over her boyfriend's shoulder at the idling Camaro, she pulled Sam into the trailer and shut the door. "Wait here."

She went into her room and quickly got dressed. Throwing her hair into a haphazard ponytail she grabbed her jacket and purse. Leaving the trailer, she locked the door and climbed in the Camaro with Sam before the car sped off again towards the highway.

"Okay, Bumblebee," Mikaela said. "What's so important that we have to be up at three in the morning on a school night?"

" _We've been found out ladies and gentlemen."_

Sam and Mikaela shared an apprehensive look. "Who found out?" Sam pressed.

" _Who are you? Who, who! Who, who!"_

"Who are you? Like, The Who? The band? They found out?" Sam asked, utterly confused. He looked at Mikaela. "How did The Who find out?"

For a moment neither Mikaela or Bumblebee knew how to respond.

" _Do I need to spell it out for you?"_ Bumblebee asked.

"Um, yeah," Mikaela said, still giving Sam a strange look. "Yeah, Bee, I think you do. What the hell Sam? The Who?"

"He was playing their song!" Sam defended.

" _Children, please!"_ Bumblebee interrupted. There was a little static before he came back with, " _Previously on CSI…"_

" _CSI?_ The show?" Sam shook his head. "Man, why does it always have to be a riddle with you? Can't you speak now?"

Mikaela couldn't help but smile a little. "You know how he likes to use the radio."

Bee tuned in the Jeopardy song.

"You're hilarious," Sam replied sarcastically.

"So what about _CSI?_ We're not talking about a show," Mikaela said. Thinking for a moment she said. "Wait. Bee, do you mean that some CSI or whatever found out about you guys?"

" _That would be the case, yes."_

"How did that happen?" Sam followed up.

" _Well…it's complicated."_

"Who was it, Bee?" Mikaela encouraged.

The radio cut out and the true, still strained voice of Bumblebee came through instead. "Optimus."

"Oh, crap," Sam whispered hoarsely.

" _Enough chit chat,"_ said the radio. _"Get jiggy wit' it!"_

* * *

Optimus looked down at the human sitting in his hand, ramrod straight, watching the ground as they walked. From sitting in the garage for nearly ninety-six hours and the minimal time he actually spent with Peyton he noted one consistent attribute thus far. She was always alert and seemed to be constantly observing things. When he put her career into consideration he supposed that it had a large role in her behavior.

Sitting down, his legs hanging over the ledge he lowered his hand for Peyton to step down. She didn't say anything as she looked up at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to be inconspicuous, but she did look eager to ask some questions.

"So," she said, shifting on her feet.

"So," he retorted amusedly.

Peyton resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. Sighing, she plopped down next to him staring out across the horizon towards the city. She really didn't know where or how to start. How do you start a conversation like this? Working up her nerve she opened her mouth to speak, but Optimus beat her to it.

"I suppose I should tell you why we're here."

"That'd be nice, thank you."

"Our race was created by an unknown power called the All Spark or simply put, the Cube."

"In cube shape, I assume."

"…"

"Sorry."

"We never learned where it came from and only knew a limited amount about what the All Spark was actually capable of. Megatron," he said lowly, "betrayed us and tried to wield the power of the All Spark for himself, forming a faction called the Decepticons that sought supreme power over the universe and war ravaged our planet until it could no longer sustain life."

Peyton listened attentively as he continues to talk about losing the Cube to space and it crash landing on Earth. Apparently, Megatron went after it, found it, but ended up getting turned into a giant, evil Popsicle when he crash landed in the Artic. Bumblebee, whom she assumed she would be meeting, was the Autobot assigned to search Earth. Bumblebee was on the right planet, but so were many more Decepticons.

Calling his comrades to Earth, Bumblebee became the guardian of a boy named Sam Witwicky, whose great-grandfather had found Megatron when exploring the Artic Circle. The Cube's location was imprinted on some glasses the kid was trying to pawn off on E-Bay. So, the war relocated to Earth and the deciding battle for the All Spark was fought in Mission City where they attempted to hide the All Spark from the Decepticons. Unfortunately, the Autobots lost their First-Lieutenant, Jazz, who from what Optimus told her, sounded like a pretty cool guy. When the fight was at its grimmest, Optimus told Sam to push the cube into his spark which would destroy it, but at the same time kill Optimus. Sam disobeyed Optimus' request, risked his life, and shoved the Cube into Megatron's chest instead, killing the Decepticon and saving the day, not mention Optimus' life.

By the end of the story, Peyton resembled a fish and was speechless.

"Without the All Spark we cannot return life to our planet," he said with loss in his voice. "But fortunately, the humans that know of our existence have accepted our presence here and permitted us to stay as refugees as well as allies long as we live in total secret."

"So more of you keep coming?"

"I sent a transmission into space and hopefully Autobots will hear it, but while they arrive, more Decepticons arrive as well. As the factions stand today, the Decepticons outnumber us 3 to 1. In order to protect your world, we need as many Autobots as possible."

"Why do the Decepticons keep showing up?" she asked. "The cube-thingy and their leader are gone so what else is there to fight for?"

"Revenge, perhaps," was his answer. "Without Megatron they are relatively divided. Starscream," Optimus said the name with a trace of contempt, "as second in command has not assumed position as leader. In fact, no one knows where he is. Starscream has always been the type to take off when the tough get going."

"Sounds like a real, stand up guy."

"Since Vortex's arrival, however, the Decepticons have been more organized on Earth. We're not sure if they're up to something, but if I know Vortex," he sighed, "they'll make a move. Slowly, but surely and we don't know what to expect. Even our medical officer, Ratchet, who is able to sense the Decepticons doesn't know what their planning.

Peyton was quiet. So, there was a war going on here and only a select amount of people knew the whole story behind it and somehow the government was able to keep it relatively hush-hush. Now that she knew about it, part of her wished she didn't. Pulling her knees to her chest she was trying to just take it all in.

"This is nuts," she muttered.

"I agree with you," the large mech said honestly. "With the destruction of the All Spark I was hoping that the war would end, but I guess our race is destined to fight until its own extinction."

"Don't say that," Peyton said sternly, surprising herself and Optimus. "You're making me depressed. All wars end eventually. Some are just longer then others."

"Most wars don't last a millennia."

"Okay, while that may be true it doesn't mean it won't ever end," she said. "You just gotta have faith." She laughed, rolling her eyes at herself in embarrassment. "I can't believe I said that. That was, by far, the most corny think I have ever said. You'd find something like that in a fortune cookie."

Optimus watched as the woman babbled on in an amusing rant, her arms waving expressively, nervous energy radiating off her in waves. He found the plates of his face pulling back into a grin. Peyton looked up at him to find him staring and promptly shut her mouth, folding her hands neatly on top of her knees. She smiled up tentatively.

"This is nuts," she said again.

* * *

Carter was snapping photos of Peyton's totaled Grand Prix while Jeffery searched the ground around them with his flashlight. Kelly was gathering fragments off the ground around the totaled car. Jeffery wandered a little ways, following the footprints of a heeled shoe, most likely Peyton's judging by the size. She was running; pretty damn fast upon examining the stride between each footprint.

The footprints eventually came to a halt. Peyton had stopped running. Sure enough there were tire tracks. The off-road vehicle probably cut her off. Another set of footprints, larger than Peyton's came forward, but she didn't run from that position. Turning in a circle a spot of disrupted soil made him stop. At first it looked like a large hold in the ground, but as he stared at it longer it started to look like something else.

Jeffery knelt down, his flashlight illuminating the ground before him. Brow frowned in contemplation he touched the disrupted surface on the ground. Thankfully, some parts of the desert, where occasional grasses and trees grew were loose with dirt, rather than sand that wouldn't nearly make out such a clear formation. The suspect made a huge mistake taking the truck here with so many surfaces to leave evidence on, but this was something he had never seen before.

"Carter!" he called. "Can you come over here for a moment please?"

The younger man was at his side in nearly an instant, camera in hand and wearing a pair of rubber gloves. "What's up, boss?"

"What does that look like to you?" Jeffery asked, waving his flashlight at the spot he was indicating.

Carter pulled out his own flashlight for more like, his mouth immediately going slack as he took a tentative step back. Jeffery huffed as he stood from his crouched position, adjusting the bill of his hat.

"So it looked like a giant footprint to you then too?" he asked rhetorically. "That's what I thought."

* * *

A/N: Not too much changed about this chapter. Maybe a little more intensity from the police showing up, some change in dialogue. Hope you liked it. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I truly appreciate it.

Please Review!

-Ray


	8. Conspiracy Theories

7\. Conspiracy Theories

John Keller sighed tiredly. Lacing his fingers together, he rested his elbows on the wood desk staring at nothing in particular across his office. He had been talking to Optimus Prime only minutes ago about a situation that had recently developed. The conversation was cut short, however, when the human woman, Peyton Callaghan, a CSI from Vegas, who had been unconscious, had awakened. The event was explained thoroughly to him and now there were some steps to take.

He already talked to Reginald Simmons and Tom Banachek, who worked for him now, to clean up the area in which Optimus revealed his true form to the woman. There were cops there, who were easily persuaded to leave the scene when they learned who Simmons and Banachek were and who they worked for. Destroying the evidence at the scene only left what was left at the Las Vegas crime lab.

The number to the Vegas crime lab was written on a slip of paper. The supervisor was named Dr. Jeffery Ellis who even had a reputation all the way in D.C. from his detailed published works and his lectures on college campuses across the country. He sighed again and reached for his phone, dialing the number, rubbing his temples to quell the increasingly painful migraine he was starting to develop.

* * *

When Sunny woke her up at nearly 4 AM, Maggie contemplated how much Sideswipe would miss his twin if she just so happened to cut his break lines and tell him to take a drive down a long, winding rode along side a cliff. Not that she could eve get away with it, mind you. Sunny would probably notice her coming at him with the scissors. Sitting in the driver's seat, she yawned, running a hand through her disheveled hair. Wrapping herself more warmly in her hoodie, she sunk in the seat, watching the steering wheel twist and turn as Sunny weaved in between slower drivers. At first, his driving had her screaming and kicking the dash, but now she was pretty sure she could still handle it if he went even faster.

"So what did Ratchet say?" she asked.

"Nothing really."

"Well that doesn't make it sound good."

"Probably not."

"Maybe we'll find out what's been keeping Optimus so busy," she suggested.

"Possibly."

"…Good talk, Sunny."

"I aim to please."

The ride was silent with Maggie only messing with the radio during commercials and drifting in and out of sleep. Pulling up on the hill, she immediately saw Epps and the newest addition to the team, Hound. Getting out so Sunstreaker could transform she greeted the Autobot kindly. Hound had the southern, country charm going for him that she thought was sweet and made a point in telling him so, making Sunstreaker twitch a little.

Looking over towards the horizon Maggie and Sunstreaker were able to see Optimus and a smaller form sitting next to him. Occasionally, there was a laugh or two, but the conversation was quiet.

"There's a girl over there," Maggie stated obviously.

"Yep," said Hound.

"Is she the reason Optimus was MIA?" Sunstreaker asked, crossing his arms.

"Yep," said Epps.

Bumblebee rolled up next with both Sam and Mikaela. Ironhide and Will followed Sideswipe and Glen and Ratchet was last with Jason, who climbed out looking only wearier then the night before as he walked up to his fellow humans. Ratchet transformed and they waited for their leader and his companion to notice them. Eventually looking over his shoulder Optimus acknowledged them with a nod and looked down at the human. Her head turned so fast her neck cracked. Her apprehension and nervousness and her twinge of fear was practically tangible.

"What should I say?" Peyton asked softly.

"Hello would be a good place to start," Optimus replied causally.

"Ha, ha," she said. "Seriously, though, I don't know what to do."

Optimus looked down at the panicky human. "Relax. They're not going to hurt you." He fell silent earning himself a worried glance from Peyton. "Well, perhaps Miss Madsen. She's a human who truly values sleep."

"You sure do know how to make a girl feel better."

A soft chuckle rose from the Autobot Commander. "I assure you that everything will be fine. They only want to meet you."

"Did I mention I'm not a people person?" she asked. "I typically deal with the dead ones and they don't make good conversation partners so I might be out of practice."

"It's alright," he said gently. "Just be yourself."

"Yeah, about that…"

"Now you're stalling."

Optimus tilted his head towards the company. Taking the hint, Peyton started walking and not long after Optimus trailed her. Stopping a few feet away from her fellow human she shifted awkwardly on her feet while they stared at her.

"Autobots," Optimus announced, "this is Peyton Callaghan."

Peyton smiled weakly and waved. "Hi."

"So, why'd you keep our boss hostage?" Sunstreaker asked bluntly, grinning when the human jumped a little.

"Umm…" she began, "h-he was at a crime scene I was investigating. I thought he was evidence so I took him in…as evidence."

"Yeah, I saw the digital copy of the crime report," Sunstreaker stated with obviously irritation. "Unless he used a toothpick or something I don't think Optimus would stab a human to death. Also, you might want to have your lab's internet security checked."

"That's enough," Optimus cut it. "She didn't know and she was doing her job. She also solved the case using a fingerprint she lifted from me." Peyton looked a little less worried now, bearing a grateful smile. "Peyton, I'd like to introduce you to my comrades. You have already met Hound and you've now spoken with Sunstreaker." The tall yellow mech scoffed darkly at her. "That is his twin Sideswipe." The red twin made a friendlier gesture, waving. Optimus then gestured to the large black robot. "My weapon specialist, Ironhide."

"Keep the canons away, buddy," Will said immediately, holding up a hand. "You don't need to scare her."

"Yeah, yeah," the mech replied with a pout in his voice. "You're no fun."

"Ratchet, our medical officer and out scout Bumblebee."

" _Hola chica bonita!"_

Peyton stared up at them in silent awe.

"And we're the humans," Sam said jokingly with a smile. "I'm Sam and this is Mikaela."

"Will," the man waved.

"The glorious, the amazing super hacker Glen Whitmann," the large man said gesturing to himself and then pointed at the fuming blonde with his thumb. "And this is my sidekick, Maggie."

"Shut up, Glen," she warned dangerously before smiling at Peyton. "I'm Maggie."

"We've already kind of met," Epps said. "Bobby Epps."

"Jason," the doctor nodded.

"Nice to meet you," Peyton said.

"So, you're a CSI?" Sam asked.

Peyton nodded with a comfortable smile. "Yeah. Las Vegas."

"Like the show?"

"Not really," she laughed. "We're not as glorified as they are in the show. I do call my boss Grissom sometimes, though. He hates it."

"So since you work with the police and stuff can you get me into a casino?"

"Probably not," she answered truthfully. "I'm only a scientist."

"Dang," Sam sighed. "Well, I just thought I'd ask."

" _Viva Las Vegas!"_ sang Elvis from Bumblebee's speakers.

"Anyways," Mikaela said with a friendly smile, "welcome to out little happy family."

Peyton frowned confusedly. "Family?"

Optimus shifted behind her.

"Well, you're gonna be sticking around right?" Glen asked. "You know, be Optimus's contact? Since you know about these guys and everything now."

Peyton whirled around to look up at the large bot. "What?"

Jason affirmed the situation first. "He didn't ask you yet?"

Peyton looked at him, meeting deep hazel eyes for only a moment before looking back up at Optimus. "No he didn't."

Ratchet looked down at the increasingly angry human. "I sense that the female may, how do you say, 'freak out.'"

"You bet you metal ass I'm gone freak out," Peyton shouted. "What is this? Recruitment?"

"No," Optimus said sternly. "I just wanted—"

"What?" she cried. "A human pet?"

Glen flinched. "I take offense to that."

"Calm down," Jason encouraged. "Give him a chance to explain."

Peyton whiled around, ready to yell, but noticed the looks she was getting from everyone. Honestly, she didn't know why she was so angry all of a sudden. Looking up at Optimus, seeing that he was concerned, she had no idea what a robot could display such emotion. Guilt ate her for snapping at him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. "I guess I just don't like surprises.'

"I should have discussed it with you earlier."

"Well," she said openly, "let's talk about it now. What's a contact supposed to do?"

"Since we are not native to your planet we've had to adjust to human culture," he explained. "Jazz was our appointed culture specialist. He took great enjoyment in learning all he could about your species from the World Wide Web, but Jazz is no longer with us. In result, I have decided it was best for us to obtain a human contact. Someone who can teach us the ways of Earth for while the Internet is helpful it is not always reliable. A more personal experience would be more rewarding."

"No to mention it's pretty cool," Sam provided.

She honestly didn't know what to say. She liked Optimus, she really did and his friends seemed great as well but she felt overwhelmed again. This all seemed to be happening too fast. Bowing her head she seriously thought about the repercussions of saying yes. She'd be getting personally involved in a war; she knew that even though Optimus had said earlier that he would not let any harm befall her for associating herself with him. She didn't doubt him, she couldn't if she tried. He was noble and very serious about protecting humans. She admitted him very much in the short amount of time she knew him.

But what about her career? She had worked so hard to get into the position that she was in. She didn't want lab time. She wanted to be on-scene from the get-go and she was, because she worked her ass off in school. What about Jeffery? Oh, sorry Jeffery, but I've decided to go play 'save the world' with some alien robots so I'm going have to quit! Is that okay? Yeah, he'd love that. Looking up at expecting faces her lips parted into two simple sentences that were difficult to get out.

"I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."

* * *

Cater dropped limply into a chair, his eyes glazed with shock. "I can't believe this."

"It's a footprint," Kelly uttered hoarsely. "Definitely not human."

"Duh!" Carter snapped. "It's fucking huge!"

"Enough," Jeffery ordered. "Now, if this is a footprint we need to find out where it came from."

"I don't know. Outer space?" Carter offered sarcastically.

Jeffery didn't refute the man's statement, which only made him more distraught.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!" he cried. "Aliens, Jeffery?"

"There's no solid evidence to indicate whether or not they exist," he said. "It's a possibility."

Grant stepped forward. "You do know what you're suggesting, don't you?" he asked apprehensively. "That Peyton was abducted by aliens?"

"I'm not saying she was," Jeffery said firmly. "This may have nothing to do with Peyton but I'm not taking any chances. Grant, Kelly, I want you guys on this. Carter, you're with me." Jeffery's expression darkened. "My goddaughter is missing, people, and I want her back. I don't care what it takes."

"Should we get Miller in on this?" Kelly asked, pointed to the puzzle of photos that made up the footprint on the table.

Jeffery thought for a moment. Looking down at the pictures he shook his head. "Not if we don't have to. I don't want this becoming a media free-for-all."

"Jeff—"

"No," he interrupted. "Keep Miller out until I say."

"Yes sir."

"Find out anything you can on this," he said. "If we have to report to Miller or the FBI or whatever we'll do it when the time comes."

At that moment there was a steady knock at the door. Kelly leapt forward and quickly gathered the photos into a stack before shoving them into a folder. Jeffery waited until she had safely tucked the folder away before answering the door. One of secretaries from the front desk stood there with a kind smile on her young face.

"Dr. Ellis," she said, "you have a phone call. I transferred it to your office."

"I'm a little busy," the supervisor said. "Tell them to call back later."

"He said it was very important," she replied, apologetically. "He said that it would be in your best interest to speak with him."

Jeffery huffed irritably. Looking back at his team he nodded, which was enough of a signal for them to get started. Walking briskly down the hall he'd take care of the call quickly so he could continue to look for his goddaughter.

Lifting the phone he snapped, "What?"

"Dr. Jeffery Ellis, I presume," a voice said.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"My name is John Keller, better known as the Secretary of Defense for the United States of America."

If Jeffery was easy to surprise this would be the time where his mouth hit the floor and his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, yet all Jeffery felt was a twinge of dread as the possibilities of this call.

"I know of the footprint that your team discovered at the sight of your crime scene analyst's disappearance."

"How did you—"

"I need you to back off the investigation, Dr. Ellis," the man said. "I can assure you that we're taking steps to find the one who took her, but this is not a civilian matter."

"Excuse me?" Jeffery asked in shocked rage. "This is my case Mr. Keller and I will not be intimidated by the government to back off it!"

"This must be done to—"

"My CSI is missing! A woman I consider to be my daughter is missing and you're telling me to back off? I don't give a flying fuck who you are! I'm not leaving this alone when I know _something_ took her!"

Keller was silent over the line for a moment before he sighed. "I'm sorry," he finally said.

As if that were the cue, there was the sound of doors being thrown open and startled screaming from the lobby. From his office, Jeffery was able to see people in black, branded with FBI on the back of their jackets, some with bullet proof vests, holding their weapons to their shoulders as they scattered through the lab, entering every office and evidence room. Jeffery knew what it was immediately.

"You can't do this!" Jeffery yelled into the phone.

But Keller had hung up.

Dropped the phone, Jeffery ran towards the lab he left his team in. Sure enough the three of them were pressed over the table, their hands bound while the fed searched through their gathered evidence. Before he could react, Jeffery was also shoved forward on the table and handcuffed. Jeffery yelled and struggled, but it was useless.

"Dr. Ellis," a man said, "my name is Tom Banachek. I work directly under the Secretary of Defense. We need to know if anyone else in the lab knows about what you found."

Jeffery glared at the wall. "No one else knows."

"Don't lie, Jeffery," a new voice said. "This is bigger then both of us and more important then Peyton now."

Jeffery looked over at his shoulder, staring at an older man losing hair on top. On his brown suit jacket was a badge with a star.

"Sheriff Crawford," he spat.

"Who else knows, Jeffery?" the hard looking man demanded.

Jeffery kept his mouth shut, glad he had decided to leave Miller out.

Banachek nodded. "Take them away."

Carter was ranting and raving about demanding a lawyer, but Kelly and Grant were just as silent as their boss. Packing into black SUVs, Jeffery wondered what this meant for the four of them. But mostly, he wondered what they knew about Peyton's disappearance that they didn't.

* * *

The long UH-60 Black Hawk flew high over the Sahara Desert casting a large shadow in the hot African sun. The sand billowed and scattered as it lowered closure to the ground. Under the sand, a form moved, looking like a scorpion burrowing just under the surface. The helicopter followed it, turning with ease before touching down and cutting the engine. The blades slowed to a stop, yet no one climbed out. Instead it transformed.

Vortex stood strong and proud on the sand, watching the form beneath the surface draw closer. After what happened in Qatar, Vortex shouldn't have been too surprised that Scorponok would flee with what remained of his dignity after losing part of his tail. The dark Decepticon grinned, his red eyes patiently waiting until Scorponok burst from the sand and crawled forward on his many legs, coming to a halt in front of him. Screeching burst from the arachnid form in an unknown language to humans.

"I trust you know what has happened," Vortex said boomingly.

Scorponok hissed, shifting from side to side and Vortex took that as a yes.

"Come," he said, turning his back. "We'll return to base."

A base? Scorponok screeched eagerly. Very familiar with the concept of having a carrier, the scorpion wasted no time in leaping onto Vortex's back, fastening himself to the armor. When he was secure, Vortex transformed and took off towards the west.

* * *

A/N: Nothing really new here. I even kept the same chapter title. That's something you'll notice if you compare the two. I always listen to music when I write so a lot of chapter titles are going to be named after the songs I listened to, like _Rumor Has It_ after the Adele song. Originally, that chapter was called An Unfair Rumor. That song just to happen to come on shuffle while I was rewriting and I went, "Huh. That could work." It's been a lot of fun so far.

Please Review!

-Ray


	9. Hiding Out

8\. Hiding Out

Kale Hamilton was a smart guy. He got through high school with flying colors and even took a few honors courses. His parents encouraged him to be great. Dad wanted a lawyer to follow in his footsteps and take over his firm while mom saw a successful surgeon in his future. When he enlisted in the Air Force both of his parents really couldn't contain their surprise as well and their unease. But both eventually accepted that this was what their son, their only child, wanted.

After joining up with the Air Force and becoming a pilot he followed his orders and preformed admirably to the best of his ability. Math was his strong suit along with science. He was strong, fit, and ate from all the food groups to stay healthy. He got the required amount of sleep as well, at least for the most part. Even he was entitled to a couple of party nights on occasion. His memory was excellent. He had birthdays and anniversaries memorized from people he rarely saw so he knew _without a doubt_ that the F-22 that sat before him, innocent as can be, did not belong on this base.

Kale had been watching the fighter since it had arrived two days ago. It threw the top dogs off for a moment since they weren't expecting it, but nothing was done. Kale just assumed that it had cleared out. But then things got weird. The jet never left the field. It sat in the corner and never moved, just an extra. Alright, maybe that, specifically, didn't count as weird. But it did have a strange, small insignia on the front that he recognized from the footage he has seen from the 'terrorist attack' on Mission City months prior and it wasn't the same insignia that was on the ones that were considered the good guys.

Yes, the entire base was aware that aliens were on Earth, but they were sworn to secrecy to the point of spending the rest of their natural life in prison for spilling the beans. If this F-22 was one of the aliens he was damn sure it was one of the bad guys, but after two days it only sat their unmoving.

He had yet to work up the nerve to say something. Part of him felt stupid even thinking about it while the other didn't want to know what would happen. Would it respond? Probably not. As far as he knew, he was the only one who noticed something was amiss. Considering the jet was registered he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Kale knew that the Autobots, the aliens that had come to help Earth, were also sworn to secrecy and were not allowed to reveal themselves to humans unless told otherwise to avoid mass hysteria and all that. But if this was one of the bad guys, like he thought, then it probably had no problem scaring the shit out of anyone.

Yet it just sat there.

"Kale," an openly confused voice sounded from behind, "what are you doing?"

Kale turned his bright blue-green eyes on the slightly younger solider. Tristan Meadly had been his best friend since they were kids grounding up in the Tennessee country. Both joined the Air Force to help with school but while Tristan saw it a temporary, Kale couldn't see himself ever leaving. They trained together, worked together, and competed with one another. It was always a friendly rivalry, but it put them at the top of their class and pegged them to hand selected to serve on their particular base located on one of the Mariana Islands. It was small, secret base with only one mission; guard the Mariana Trench.

"Nothing," Kale responded quickly. Huffing loudly he ran a hand through his hair. Passing another glance over his shoulder at the ominous F-22 he allowed Tristan to pull him away as he was teased for spacing out.

"Man, you've been staring at the fighter for the past two days!" Tristan accused. "What's up?"

Kale shook his head. "That F-22 isn't supposed to be here."

"Um, yeah it is," Tristan laughed. "This is an _air base_. That means we have _air craft_."

"That's not what I mean!" the pilot said exasperatedly. "Doesn't it look suspicious to you?"

Tristan turned and eyed the jet thoughtfully. "You know what? It actually does. It's so menacing, just sitting there, unmoving. It must be plotting. Or worse! S _cheming_ …"

"Damn it, Tristan, I'm serious!" Kale hissed, slugging him in the shoulder. "It has a robot face thing on it. Remember the ones from Mission City?"

Tristan face dropped from amusement to concern in a blink. "You think that fighter is one of _those_ things?"

"Maybe."

"I didn't see the insignia," Tristan offered. "Are you sure?"

"Dude," Kale said exasperatedly, "would I bring this up if I wasn't sure?"

"Okay," his friend replied, looking toward the jet. "We should say hi."

Kale quickly grabbed the other man's arm before he could walk away. "What? No! Are you crazy? Don't go over there."

"What? Why not?"

"Because! It's has the _other_ insignia. The one that the attacking robots had."

Tristen's eyes widened and tried to walk in the opposite direction of the jet. "We need to report this."

Kale grabbed him again. "Not yet."

"…You wanna run that by me again?"

Kale sighed, shifting anxiously on his feet. He pulled Tristan further away behind a wall. "It's not doing anything," he said softly. "Maybe he just didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Kale," Tristan said sternly, "do you realize how fucking stupid that sounds?"

"Let's just wait," Kale suggested. "I want to see what he does."

"…Are you out of your damn _mind?_ " Tristan cried, only to be shushed. "You can't endanger everyone here because you're curious to what a deranged, evil robot will do. Do you remember where we are?" he whispered harshly.

"Give it a few more days," he encouraged. "Think about it. He's been here for days, long enough to do damage if he really wanted to."

"He's just biding his time before he goes deep sea diving for his buddies."

"Tristan, if he really wanted to kill us don't you think he would've already?"

Tristan opened his mouth with all the intention of refuting his best friend, but words escaped him as his mouth clicked shut and he sighed.

"C'mon, man," Kale nearly begged. "What if he wants to switch sides and doesn't really know how to go about it."

Tristan glared angrily at him before jabbing a finger into Kale's chest. "National security. You're jeopardizing national security for—no, you know what? _World_ security, Kale. World. Security."

"I know, but trust me man," Kale said. "I just got a feeling."

"A feeling?" Tristan scoffed.

"…Yes."

"You're an asshole."

"Please," Kale pleaded one more time. "Think of the information we could get if he cooperated with us."

Tristan looked eager to pull his hair out. "You are a son of a bitch, you know that?"

Kale nodded. "And an asshole too apparently."

"So what? You're just going to talk to him?"

"I'm going to try."

"How is that any different then me going over there?"

"Because, if he is still a Decepticon then we can let him step on me instead of you."

Tristen messaged the bridge of his nose. "I don't like this…"

"I know you don't," Kale said.

"This is dangerous, Kale. Not to mention fucking stupid. Do you know what will happen if anyone finds out?"

"I think I know the gist of it."

"Then why can't we let someone who gets paid a lot more than us handle it."

"Because I really think he'll respond better to a one-on-one conversation rather then being held up at gun point."

Tristen was shaking his head. "This is such a bad idea."

"Please," Kale said with pleading eyes.

"…Are you trying to give my puppy eyes."

"Depends. Is it working?"

"Fine!" he conceded, dropping his arms heavily at his side. "You have forty-eight hours to figure out what he wants then I'm reporting him."

A genuine smile came to Kale's face. "Thanks, man. And you know this is only _if_ I'm right and he is one of them."

"Whatever," came his reply. "But if he goes ape-shit on us, it'll be your fault."

"All on me," Kale agreed.

* * *

Throwing an arm around his best friend's shoulder they walked to the mess hall not noticing that the F-22, whom they had been speaking of, rumble in annoyance. The humans standing a couple hundred feet away and behind a wall did not hinder Starscream's ability to eavesdrop. He also didn't like being spoken of like he was a reformed criminal. The man that had noticed his presence was indeed correct in the Decepticon's ability to overcome the base rather easily despite the humans' knowledge on how to engage him in battle. But, of course, attacking the base would lead to unwanted involvement of the Autobots. They'd figure out it was him and hunt him down. He really didn't that on his plate at the moment.

He was a deserter. He was too much of a coward to step up and take the position as leader of the Decepticons, leaving it all for Vortex to sweep away. Honestly, he hadn't even been aware of Vortex's presence on Earth until recently. He always thought that maybe Soundwave would take over, but Soundwave was quiet at the moment, either accepting the role of being a subordinate or biding his time to make him own move. But regardless, now that Vortex was in the picture, he'd probably be better off leaving the planet all together like he had planned on.

If anyone hated him in the universe the most it would have to be Vortex. The younger mech was loyal to Megatron in front of an audience, but he always secretly seemed to be plotting their charismatic leader's destruction, not unlike Starscream. But there was a difference in motive and means. Vortex wanted power and actually had the audacity to carry out a coup. To Starscream it'd had been an unreachable dream motivated by personal hate and vengeance. The only thing Vortex saw in Starscream was uselessness and had been infuriated when Starscream had been promoted to second in command. So in the end, Starscream was not only hiding from the Autobots and the humans. He was hiding from his former comrades who would no sooner kill him before looking at him.

Starscream had flown over the base five days ago after a near run-on with Demolisher. The fool had crash landed near a base in Virginia and while the humans were investigating he scanned a simple army tank and took off. Starscream had been hiding at the base, but left when he realized that he wasn't far enough quite yet. Flying halfway around the world for days he landed at this base and hid in the open in the line of F-22s hacking their registry system easily enough and adding information that made it seem as though his presence was expected.

The human, Kale, was walking across the air field when he caught a glimpse of him. For some reason Kale had stopped to stare at him as if he could see right through him. Starscream had to give credit to the human's instinct while he cursed it at the same time. Starscream wished he had concealed the Decepticon insignia as soon as he arrived at the base. Having had it for so long he had pretty much forgotten that it was there and when Kale saw it he looked very startled. Watching the human turn and walk away, trying to act casual, but failing, Starscream was tempted to take off in that moment and get as far away as possible even at the risk of further exposure.

But Starscream remained still and waited to see what happened next. No one approached him with a weapon or paid any mind to him. If the human had blown the whistle the soldiers on base were excellent actors. But later that day, the human came back and stood there for nearly a half hour just staring at him. Starscream thought the whole thing was annoying, but at the same time, intriguing. Why hadn't the human reported him to his commanding officer?

It seemed like he had his answer now. So this Kale Hamilton was curious as to what Starscream would do if left unprovoked? Starscream had the answer to that and it was a very simple one…

Absolutely nothing.

* * *

Kale returned to the field two hours later. As always the jet was in the same spot, unwavering or giving no hint to the fact that it was alive, but Kale knew better. Walking across the field, he kept his eyes on it and he was sure it was watching him as well. Kale was supposed to be going up in the air today, but as he looked at the jet he was filled with what he knew to be a stupid temptation. Could he possibly go up in that fighter instead of his own?

"That's suicide," he mused, but it didn't stop him from thinking it.

In fact, the jet hadn't left the deck since it landed. He was sure that even evil alien robots were susceptible to boredom. Maybe he'd want to get off the ground to stretch. It was enough to get to stand by it. A familiar feeling swelled in the pit of his stomach very much like when he had asked his first girlfriend out on a date.

"So, look," he said, scratching his nose, trying to look inconspicuous, "you're probably getting a little antsy down here to I've got a proposition for you. If you want to stay here you need to act like a regular fighter jet, not just a model on display. If you want, I can pretend to pilot you so you can fly around without looking suspicious. How's that sound?"

That sounds ridiculous, Starscream thought with an internal scoff. He didn't need a human pilot. He could leave any time he wanted. Though it he did want to stay he knew he would have to start acting like a normal jet so he gave Kale points for that one, but he'd never stoop as low as to have a human 'pretend' anything with him like those good for nothing Autobots.

His silence seemed to be his answer.

"Alright," Kale said good-naturedly. "That's fine. It was just an idea. Let me know if you change your mind…you know… _secretly_."

Starscream watched as the man walked away from him towards another jet parked further down the line. Climbing inside, he pulled his helmet over his head and gave the okay to the field hands. Starscream watched him pull out and take off towards the open sky. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the freedom.

"What about this one?"

"Uh, I don't know. This one never goes up."

"It's the new one, isn't it? Is it already on repair?"

Starscream shifted his attention down to two humans staring at a clipboard and looking at him in confusion. Was his cover blown already? Maybe he should've taken the human up on his offer. Thinking quickly, Starscream generated a hologram in the cockpit. The humans were startled to see it, but one it gave them the thumbs up he pulled out and took to the sky, following after the rest of the team. He bought himself some time, but it didn't mean that his presence wouldn't be questioned later.

They wouldn't return until later that night. The entire time Starscream only watched Kale's jet. Doing flips and spinning around the man was clearly a very talented pilot. Opening his communications to the other pilots he could hear all the conversations they were having. Starscream knew a few things about humans since his stay on Earth and one was that human women did not like to be discussed as commodities or in a manner similar to that of meat. Thankfully for these men, there were not women flying today.

Humans were such animals.

Kale, for the most part, kept out of that conversation, but his buddy, Tristan didn't. The way the man described his multiple sexual encounters with the opposite gender it was a surprise the man hadn't contracted one of those diseases Starscream had read about on the Web. Reading the descriptions of a few of many he was very, _very_ thankful he wasn't an organic lifeform.

During the flight, Kale noticed him. Doing a back flip he fell in beside the Decepticon, very surprised to see him in the air, but he didn't say anything other than a soft 'hey.' Starscream still wondered why Kale hadn't reported him and though he felt relieved, he'd never say thank you. Another thing he would never admit was that he finding this particular human fairly… _intriguing_. Inferior, but intriguing.

* * *

A lone police cruiser, a Ford Mustang, spend through the open Sonoran Desert in Arizona. As it neared a portion untouched by brush, a piercing, inhuman screech came from it. The ground shook and a large door lifted from the sands to accept it. The surface became smooth, changing from sand to sleek metal. Drifting sideways to a stop, the sound of screeching tires echoed in the large space. As soon as the door shut, bright artificial light filled the room. The car suddenly shifted and changed, taking the form of someone familiar.

"Barricade," Vortex greeted, gaining the other's attention, "what do you have to report?"

"In Nevada, a team of humans found a footprint from one of our species," he started. "The US government had taken them into custody."

Vortex's optics narrowed curiously. "The Autobots have been careless."

"Probably," Barricade agreed. "Breakdown and Dead End have been on scouting duty, but they know not to interact with any humans. The Autobots however…"

"Are taking on more and more human pets," Vortex finished. "Disgusting."

The Decepticons were very much aware of the degree to which the Autobots were involving themselves with humans. While Optimus Prime had been hesitant at first to involve humans, especially ones they had already come to know, he and the US Secretary of Defense agreed that having human liaisons would better their stay on Earth. The Decepticons, however, would not stoop as low as to have a useless fleshing always holding them back when battle arose.

Humans would be doomed to extinction anyways when the Decepticons finally took Earth for themselves.

With Megatron deactivated and Starscream AWOL, Vortex came to Earth to find his comrades in shambles. Starscream made a horrid leader and none of the Decepticons would ever unite under the former second in command. But to Vortex's surprise and delight, the seeker was no where to be found when he arrived.

It made it much easier to take over.

Barricade followed orders easily enough. He avoided his comrades until order was restored by Vortex. Demolisher, who was always at odds with Vortex was a little hesitant, because not only did Vortex view him as pretty useless, his loyalties to Megatron rivaled that of Blackout's. Dead End and Breakdown weren't hard to convince either, especially when holding the latter of the two at gunpoint. Soundwave, however, opted to stand by and see how things progressed. Considering the stoic mech was sticking around, Vortex could only assume he was willing to follow, if only for the time being. The stand in leader of the Decepticons knew better then to trust him completely. But with the Decepticons finally mobilized, minus Starscream, of course, Vortex began to put his plans into motion.

"Call in Dead End and Breakdown," he ordered. "There's much we have to discuss."

Barricade nodded and opened up a com-link as Vortex left the hanger for another. Unlike the Autobots, the Decepticons hadn't waited for the go-ahead from the US government to build their base. Underground, it was protected by a force field created by Soundwave so satellite imagery or any other type of human technology that was capable of detecting them would be unable to.

Barricade came through the doorway soon after making the call. "They're on their way," he said. "Vortex, what are you planning?"

"Something the Autobots would never expect," the mech grinned, showing a rare display of emotion.

Barricade didn't ask any further questions. Leaving, he decided to leave Vortex to his scheming. Vortex had it in for Optimus Prime just like Megatron, but not nearly as bad. To Megatron, the violent rivalry with Optimus had been more personal then the fact that they were in opposing factions. To Vortex, the last Prime was an obstacle to gaining ultimate warrior statuses.

Walking through multiples of airlock-like doors, Barricade eventually came upon the most useless if not idiotic mech of their faction. Demolisher was all brawn and no brain in an obvious way. Recently, the Decpeticon's inability to perform had become a thorn in Vortex's side. Tell the mech to stay out of human sighs and he'd transform right in front of them. Tell him to wait and he'd rush in with canons blasting. Choosing the form of a tank, much like the late Devestator, it suited him; unthinking, easily used, and devastating.

The largest Decepticon, at least in girth, looking up from whatever he was doing, narrowing his red optics as Barricade sauntered in. "Where have you been?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," Barricade replied shortly.

The tank huffed and left the room. Barricade didn't stick around either. He was never one for company anyways so instead he went to his quarters, if not to recharge then just to get away. Entering his own chamber he walked to a long platform, almost like a bunk and sat down. Staring across the room, his optics were narrowed at the wall. He was an uptight guy. It was hard to relax.

Vortex had been working him down to the circuits lately with recon missions and such, but he'd never complain. He'd never show weakness, but he was still exhausted all the same. Falling on his back, he tossed his arms over his head, staring at the high, gray ceiling. He couldn't shut down temporarily, but at least he could try and unwind a bit before the others arrived.

* * *

As soon as Breakdown was off the com-link with Barricade, he and Dead End were racing towards the Arizona desert in their alt forms. Breakdown had chosen a red corvette, sleek and built for speed. Dead End chose to scan a dark purple Porsche. Both sports cars were going well over the speed limit, weaving in and out of lanes earning scornful looks from the other occupants on the road. Emitting a frequency that would momentarily stall the police cruiser, hiding behind the wall of an overpass, left the officer startled and confused enough for the two Decepticons to put some distance between them and him.

"What did Barricade say?" Dead End asked.

"Some humans found evidence of our existence here thanks to those Auto-scum," Breakdown shot back. "The human government is trying to cover it up, but now a human is missing."

"So the Autobots took it?"

"Probably."

"Didn't know they were into kidnapping."

They pulled off the road and into the desert driving miles inward and out of sight of the road. The same screech came from Dead End that had come from Barricade earlier and the door lifted open. Transforming back into their bi-pedal modes, it wasn't had to locate Vortex in the adjacent hander sitting at a terminal, though Barricade and Demolisher were no where to be seen. Soundwave was also missing, mostly likely making repairs on Scorponok. The humans did a real number on him with those sable rounds.

"The human is a crime scene investigator," Vortex said immediately. "It seems that Optimus Prime got himself mixed up in a little human homicide." Standing he turned towards them. "Get the others," he ordered. "There's a lot to be done."

"Like what?" Dead End asked, crossing his arms.

They all gathered in the largest hander. Soundwave entered last, Scorponok nearly finished in repairs, behind him. As the scorpion skittered across the floor, Soundwave went to Vortex with a self-satisfied look in his red optics.

"Is it finished?" Vortex asked.

"It is," was the rasped reply.

"What's finished?" Demolisher asked.

"Show them," he ordered.

Soundwave, using the remote in his hand, aimed it towards the large monitor mounted on the wall. A blueprint came on the screen and all the Decepticons immediately recognized it as the makeup of the late Megatron.

"What is this?" Barricade asked suspiciously. When there was no response he tried again. "Vortex!"

"Decepticons," Vortex said with a sadistic grin, "we're going fishing."

* * *

A/N: So, this chapter is essentially the same with the plotting and the scheming and the banter. I made Vortex a self-centered prick intentionally. One of the questions I was going to answer in the sequel was 'if Vortex wants to be supreme overlord over all things living including the Decepticons, then how come he has this plan to get you-know-who (if you read the original) back into the game? Vortex has no love for Megatron, so why?'

I don't want to give away because the idea is still bouncing around in my noggin. :P Just know he's a real diabolical jerk and he's got a plan. Thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray

P.S. To all those celebrating the holiday in the states this weekend, Happy 4th of July/Independence Day! Enjoy the fireworks! Safely, I hope. Don't blow your fingers off.


	10. The Choice

9\. The Choice

Sitting in the driver seat of a red Lamborghini, she was supposed to be pretending she was driving, but she just couldn't seem to stop staring out the driver side window. Sideswipe had been kind enough in reminding her of this multiple times, but he gave up when she would respond with 'mm hmm's' and soft 'yeah's.' Peyton gnawed on her thumb nail as she recounted the past hours. To say her answer to Optimus's question was unexpected was a huge understatement though, if one thought about it rationally, it shouldn't have been.

Sam's mouth pretty much hit the floor with Glen's. Maggie, who still needed to put a filter on the mind-mouth thing immediately demanded to know why the hell not, but Peyton stuttered over her reasoning. She didn't want to say she wasn't afraid, because frankly she was. Seeing death on a nearly weekly basis you'd think she'd be desensitized enough, but not yet. That and she couldn't just drop her career. Jeffery would never forgive her.

When it seemed that everyone was really starting to give her a hard time she was rescued by the very mech she had turned down. Stepping in, Optimus ordered everyone to back off, stating that Peyton had made her decision. There was nothing no one could do about it.

And if that just didn't make her feel worse about it.

Peyton couldn't even look him in the eye, even when he offered to take her home. Will immediately launched into whatever protocol they had for making sure she didn't spill the beans about the Autobots to the media. She tried to listen attentively, but, again, Optimus shut him down, stating that someone would contact her soon and explain everything.

As too getting a ride home, she decided that it wouldn't be a good idea for Optimus to play chauffer, mostly due to the fact that he was missing/stolen evidence and the entire state of Nevada was looking for him, so Optimus volunteered Sideswipe to take her home. Peyton went right around to say that she could get a cab since she didn't want to inconvenience them anymore then she already had. But Sideswipe said it'd be no problem. Glen offered to go as well, but a secretive look from his partner stopped him.

After getting her sprained fingers wrapped by Jason, her gun and phone returned to her, she climbed into Sideswipe and they drove away. So, there they were, cruising back roads towards Las Vegas where Peyton would be put back into her normal life and try to put all of this behind her. She had said goodbye to all of them, a bit awkwardly, expressing her thanks and promising not to tell a soul about what happened. Optimus's words still run clear in her mid and it only made her feel worse.

"It was an honor meeting you, Peyton Callaghan," he had said. "Hopefully, if our paths cross again it will be under better circumstances."

Peyton sighed again.

"Would you stop that?" Sideswipe demanded irritably.

Peyton blinked, having been lost in thought. "Huh?"

"The sighing," the radio answered. "I know it's a way you humans express some emotion, but geez! It's kind of annoying."

Normally Peyton would've politely apologized, even if she didn't feel like she was obligated to, and would've stopped. Normally, she would've kept quite for the rest of the trip. Normally, she would've only spoken if being spoken too. Normal, normal, normal, but things were not so normal anymore and she was definitely not in a normal situation. Normally, she wouldn't have reacted the way she was about to.

"I can _sigh_ as much as I damn well please," she cried angrily. "You're a robot! Turn off your ears or something."

"Excuse me," the mech retaliated, "but I believe I'm the one driving your fleshy butt home so you can just up and abandon Optimus."

"I am not abandoning him," she defended. "I hardly know any of you well enough to _abandon_ you. What do you expect me to do?"

"Um, I don't know, give it a chance maybe?"

"I have a job. I have my family. I can't just drop everything to go on a world saving adventure."

Sideswipe's irritation switched to anger as she seemed to speak of things she didn't fully understand. "Do you think the other don't have jobs? Families?" he asked. "Sam and Mikaela aren't even out of high school yet. Lennox has a wife and an infant daughter. Glen has a cousin and a Grandmother he takes care of. Jason is a doctor. None of them have dropped anything to help us." His voice softened. "You're just scared."

Peyton's hand flew forward and twisted the volume dial down, but that didn't work at all, since she could hear Sideswipe chuckling at her. She slouched in the driver's seat, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Optimus told you to back off," she said snidely. "I made my decision."

"Maybe it's not the right one."

"So the right one is to join you guys?" she snapped again. "Why can't you see that I can't?"

"Because you have to have legitimate excuse," he replied simply. "Oh, yeah, and being scared doesn't count."

This time her foot rose, kicking the radio harshly, but hardly enough to hurt him. If he could, Sideswipe would've rolled his eyes at the human woman's explosiveness.

"I'm not afraid," she stated firmly. _Yeah right liar._

Sideswipe remained quiet. He could detect her heart rate increase in her emotional state. She was lying. She was silent for a while, not even sighing. As he passed a sign for Las Vegas, he felt her turn in her seat anxiously, seeing that they only had a few more miles to go.

"You know," he finally said, "Optimus has been really picky about choosing a human partner and he chose you. That's got to count for something, right? So, I'm going to ask you again. Are you sure this is what you really want?"

Peyton hesitated again, cursing herself for even allowing the question to get to her. Her mind was giving her all the reasons in the world to say no, to go home, get some left over pot roast, maybe some desert, and go back to work. It would be what Jeffery would want, definitely what her mother would want. Dead bodies and crime scenes seemed a lot easier to deal with then this. Jeffery would be happy to see her, yell at her for being a reckless idiot, but she could already imagine the hug she would receive as soon as he laid his warm eyes on her. She wanted the fatherly hug that made everything alright, but at the same time…

"Pull over please," she asked softly.

Sideswipe pulled over on to the gravel. Climbing out, Peyton walked around to stand on the grass.

"Peyton?"

She shook her head. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sat on the grass, using Sideswipe's body to block her from the road.

Her heart, while it missed her family, was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst from her chest. The excitement of the past twelve hours was invigorating. She hadn't been this excited since she had solved her first quadruple homicide as a rookie fresh out of college. Maybe she was passing up the opportunity of a lifetime. Sure it would throw her entire reality off kilter, but Optimus seemed like a really nice guy…robot…whatever. Not to mention the persist guilt that made her feel like she was letting him down and despite having only known him for a few hours she didn't want to let him down.

Peyton's eyes slipped shut as she dropped her forehead to her knees. The miniscule amount of resolve she had was shattered and now she didn't know what to do.

* * *

"What do they know?"

"Nothing yet. But they'll have questions. They're in the interrogation room now."

"Sir, are you sure you want to do this? Once you tell them there's no going back. They could—"

"I know the risks and I know what must be done. Let's go."

John Keller stood up from his desk looking absolutely weary with dark circles under his eyes. Since the events concerning the NBEs and the crisis that accompanied their arrival the President designated him as the ambassador between the two species. This only packed on more stress for the older man. His wife was starting to get agitated that he was never around, but it wasn't like he could exactly tell her what was going on. He was even falling out of touch with his two children. His son hardly called him anymore, busy establishing his own political career and starting a family and his daughter was in her first semester of grad school. She tried calling him, but he never had time to talk to her. In all honesty, he felt like his family was falling apart and he knew that it was probably his fault.

Only a small portion of the navy, the portion stationed at the Mariana Trench knew about the NBEs. And then there were the human contacts the Autobots had established. Keller made sure to tell them again and again not to reveal themselves to any humans outside the circle of whom already new them. The last one he expected to do this was Optimus Prime and as he stalked down the dim hall towards the interrogation room he mulled over choice words he'd say to the Autobot commander when he saw him. Not only did an outsider know of the NBEs, but he had no other choice but to tell the woman's co-workers and godfather too since no other explanation would suffice.

With two guards at each side, it wasn't long until he met up with Agent Simmons and Agent Banachek. Upon arriving, the door was opened and they walked in. Jeffery and his team were sitting at a steel table, lounging in different positions, having had to wait hours to see any other humans in the dark room besides themselves. The four immediately recognized Keller and straightened their posture, but not out of respect. If it weren't for the guards surrounding him, Jeffery would have ordered an all-out assault on the politician.

"I suppose you all want to know why you are here," Keller assumed.

"Maybe a little," Kelly spat darkly.

"What's going on?" Jeffery demanded. "What do you know about Peyton that we don't?"

Keller stared at the older man wrought with concern and desperation. "I assure you that she is safe."

"How do you know?" Jeffery pressed.

Keller didn't respond, but nodded to Banachek, who carried a familiar silver briefcase in hand. Approaching the table he placed the case on the metal surface. Popping the locks he withdrew a manila envelope along with individual folders with names on them. Jeffery quickly red over as many names as he could such as Samuel J. Witwicky, Mikaela Banes and even a Captain William Lennox. Each had their own individual file in clear plastic slip jackets. There were a total of seven.

Jeffery watched as the files were spread so they were able to see all the profile pictures. Jeffery had a keen eyes for comparable subjects and the old similarities that he could see that were Witwicky and Banes went to the same school, Lennox and Tech Sergeant Epps were from the same special OPS team, and that, currently, all resided in Tranquility, Nevada. Jeffery's attention was drawn to the manila envelope that Banachek had yet to place on the table.

Jeffery pointed to the envelope. "Why do I get the feeling that what I really want to know is in there?" Jeffery asked, with a sarcastically friendly smile.

Keller sighed from the door and came further into the room. Pulling out a chair across from the four detainees he sat down, resting his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together. Jeffery watched the slightly older man, reading the forlorn expression on his face. He started to fear the worse, despite Keller's reassurances of Peyton's safety.

"What happened to her?" he demanded softly.

"Dr. Ellis, about twelve hours ago your colleague came into contact with we call an NBE."

"NBE?" Grant questioned.

"Non-Biological Extraterrestrial," Simmons answered from his position behind the Secretary of Defense.

The team fell silent.

"What we have in this folder," Keller began again, taking said folder from Banachek, "is going to be hard to believe. I also need you to understand what we are about to show it his held above classified and cannot be breeched to the public."

"Why not?" Grant asked again.

The three government officials send him a scalding look that shut him up immediately, even made him sink further into his chair.

"If this information is given to the public we will have a global pandemic on our hands of mass fear, hysteria, and religious and political uproar. This is going to be hard for you to accept, let alone the rest of the world," Keller said tersely before holding out the thick envelope to Jeffery.

Jeffery took the envelope as it was offered and pulled out a stack of photographs. The first two were shadows, outlined by a bright light coming from somewhere behind the mass but only depicted a sort of exoskeleton of what looked like a large robot. Jeffery passed pictures to the right as he finished, to Kelly. There were random pictures of other robots, these ones more colorful even standing with people. These pictures had an aura of regular old snap shot taken with friends. It took Jeffery a few seconds but he soon realized that the people standing with them were the peoples' whose files were on the table as well. The last photo made him stop. Breath caught in his throat, his hands started to shake.

This robot was the largest out of the six in the photo. It was blue and red with detailed, custom flames. It bore a strikingly terrifying resemblance to the semi they had picked up at the murder scene of Hector Almaraz.

"We were notified that another has just landed, but we don't have him on file yet," Banachek said.

"You mean Peyton really was abducted by aliens?" Carter asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Keller said with the slightest grin of amusement. "Ms. Callaghan may have gotten a little too close to discovering the truth about the NBEs and that may have lead to her disappearance, but I assure you that they won't hurt her."

"She was going to strip him," Kelly brought up. "She was going to tear that truck apart! What if it—"

"Then that would explain why NBE-A-1 decided to take off," Simmons shrugged. While NBE already had its meaning, having either an 'A' or a 'D' was tacked on to represent whether or not it was an Autobot or Decepticon.

"Optimus," Keller corrected, for what seemed pretty often. "He has a name Simmons."

"Yes, sir."

"Optimus?" Jeffery asked hoarsely.

Keller nodded. "Optimus Prime. He is the leader of the Autobots or, to put it simply, the good alien robots."

Grant swallowed a little nervously as he looked over the photos. "There are bad ones?"

"The Decepticons," Keller replied, "and they have always outnumbered the Autobots."

"I can't believe this," Carter whimpered feebly, dropping his head to the table. "T-This sounds like something from a…a _cartoon_ show or…or a comic book!"

"Why are they here?" Kelly asked.

Keller's weary gaze shifted over to the lab supervisor. "Simmons, get some coffee. We're going to be here for a while."

Jeffery leaned forward, mirroring Keller's posture, alert and ready to listen.

* * *

Vortex watched Soundwave leaning over a large metal table, sparks flying from the small form that he was working on. Crossing his arms he walked over to the table, staring down at the twitching body of one of the smallest Decepticons; Frenzy. Having been severely damaged by his own weapon while trying to kill an American politician, Frenzy wasn't dropped into the ocean like his larger comrades. Scrambling to escape, he didn't get far before his body gave out on from lack of energon and his spark started to fade. It was Barricade, who was typically partnered with the twitchy mech for recon missions that picked up the distress signal. Barricade, relatively damaged himself, managed to find the mech in time but considering how damaged Frenzy was, he barely made it.

"How is it coming?" Vortex questioned.

"I'm not a medic," Soundwave replied, his voice deep and gravelly, "but moderately well, considering."

Soundwave was one who did not like to disturbed when working. Very thorough from recon or recovering missions to designing and creating weapons in his workshop, Soundwave was an asset that Vortex would never admit to. Granted, Vortex wouldn't admit that anyone in the faction was an asset.

The small body twitched as hot sparks few from his cranium. The damage to his processor was the most severe. In human terms, one could call Frenzy 'brain dead,' but that human phrase was used lightly by their terms. While the human brain severed as the command center of the body, a Cybertronian relied on their spark. Everything was tied to it and if the spark was intact then there was a very good chance that anything thing else damaged can be restored, depending on the severity.

"How long before he's online?" Vortex asked.

Soundwave shot him a dangerous look with his red optics, but answered anyways. "Not long. The rebound of the disc severed his processor in half, but I have repaired most of the damage. Still, how he managed to get himself out of the dam before he went offline is rather impressive."

"Alright," Vortex said. "What did you learn of the American base near the trench?"

Soundwave turned away from his work. "The best of the best American pilots are stationed there, but it shouldn't be too difficult to eliminate any resistance. I do not believe they are expecting a premeditated attack. The Autobots seemed to have reassured them of that."

Vortex nodded and headed for the door. "Good. Notify me as soon as he's up and running."

"One more thing," Soundwave interrupted.

Vortex paused. "What is it?"

"It is no secret what you think of Megatron, Vortex."

Vortex grinned. "And what is that?"

Soundwave ignored the question with one of his own. "Why?"

The stand in leader faced the other mech, his red eyes a mixture between annoyance and determination. "Under Megatron we were united. I may have an agenda of my own, but I am no fool. I know that the Decepticons will never completely unite under my control and never under Starscream's. I know what needs to be done."

Vortex didn't wait to listen to anything else Soundwave might have to say. He left quickly, leaving him to his work. Stalking down the halls of the base he was supposed to meet with Barricade for any new information about the missing human woman involved with the Autobots. The event was rather amusing to him as he considered Optimus's carelessness. Heavy footsteps drew near, but he knew they weren't Barricade's.

Sure enough, the clunky form of Demolisher came around the corner. In a way, Demolisher was currently 'grounded,' forbidden from leaving the base since he seemed to do nothing but jeopardize their hidden location. Red optics met and a wave of disgust passed between them. Demolisher was no more of a fan of Vortex than he was of the other, but plans of retrieving their fallen comrades from the Trench and the possibility of Megatron's revival kept Demolisher in line part of the time. Demolisher was a loyal puppy when it came to Megatron. The Decepticon would jump in a terran volcano if Megatron ordered him to.

"What are you doing?" Vortex demanded.

Demolisher, trying to show that he wasn't intimidated, which he was, stuck out his chest and tried to make himself seem taller. "I don't have to keep answering to you for long, so you might as well get used to it now."

Vortex didn't know whether to smile at the other's stupidity or just kick the ever loving slag out of him. Stepping closer, he watched as Demolisher visibly shrunk back in apprehension.

"Yes, but for now you do," Vortex said, "and it would be in your best interest not to test me, Demolisher. I already think you'd be more useful for spare parts. Megatron isn't here, not yet, and while I'm in charge you best watch your step."

That shut him up.

Walking around him, he continued his search for the Decepticon's best scout. When he was out of sight, Demolisher would've released a heavy breath that he would've been holding if he needed to breathe. Vortex creeped him out, that was for sure, but who cares. If all went according to plan he would no longer be in power the true Decepticon leader would be back to lead them in the defeat of the Autobots and the extinction of the human race.

* * *

Dust was kicked up in heavy clouds as Sides sped from the road up the hill towards the crowd gathered on the hill. Sunny rolled his optics at his twin's enthusiasm when there was no need for it. Optimus stood in the distance, staring into the rising sun, hands clasped behind his back.

Sides slid to a stop in front of them.

"That was quick," Sam pointed out. "Did she get home okay?"

Peyton climbed out of the Lamborghini.

Sam eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh."

Peyton smiled at the group and waved as she stepped away from Sides to allow him to transform, before sending a grateful look up at him. "Thanks again," she said.

"No problem," he responded pleasantly. "Couldn't let you make the wrong decision."

Smiling again, she ran towards the largest Autobot, looking much lighter then from they had first met her.

"She changed her mind," Ratchet mused in slight amazement.

"What'd you say to her Sides?" Mikaela asked.

The mech grinned and shrugged casually. "Nothing much. Just gave her a little something to think about."

"That's surprising," Sunny put in mildly. "You can barely do that yourself."

They watched Peyton reach Optimus quickly and stand beside him. He looked down at her, his optics widening in surprise, if only briefly. Peyton sighed loudly and shifted her gaze towards the sky.

"I did some thinking," she began. "I've only been working for Jeffery for a while now, but I think it's about time I took a vacation. Everyone else seems to think so." She looked back at him with a small grin. "So do you mind if I stick around for a while?"

Optimus returned the smile. "Not at all."

* * *

A/N: Sorry to anyone who was waiting for an update. Thing is, I just graduated and I started my new job. Anyone who's ever had a job knows how stressful that can be, learning and ins and outs and what not and being the new kid. I also went a country music festival last weekend. Faster Horses! Anyone hear of it? Long story short, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong barring someone ending up in the hospital. It was still awesome and I'm totally going next year. Thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray


	11. When CSI Meets Transformers

10\. When CSI Meets Transformers

"Dude, why are we doing this?"

"Because there's a BOLO out on Optimus and Peyton and they could be spotted."

"But we're breaking and entering."

"We _do_ have a key, you know."

"What if someone sees us?"

"If you don't shut up someone will."

"Ow! Quit shoving!"

"Both of you _shut up!_ "

Sam huffed irritably as Will shoved him towards the stairs of the apartment complex. Mikaela jogged up the stairs until she reached the third floor. Opening apartment 313 she slipped inside followed by Will and Sam. Shutting the door they flipped on the light and scanned the apartment. It was nice. Hardwood floors and granite counter tops, but it was practically empty. There were some pictures on the coffee table and a book shelf, but the walls were bare. It was clean as well, like it was hardly lived in. Peyton had mentioned early that the job kept her away from home a lot.

Entering the kitchen, Will opened the fridge and sure enough takeout box after takeout box littered the shelves with canned sodas and beer. There was hardly any healthy food in there. The freezer was all but empty besides a couple of ice-cube trays and some freezer burned chocolate ice cream. Grabbing a trashcan, he started throwing all the takeout boxes away since Peyton was pretty clear on not wanting rancid pad-tai to stink up her apartment.

Sam and Mikaela ventured into her bedroom. The bed was unmade, but there were no clothes on the floor. The hamper was only half full. The room was white walled. The bed had black linens and a black and white comforter. The furniture was black. The only personalization of the whole room was two pictures on the nightstand. One was Peyton and an older man with salt and pepper hair. Mikaela had to assume that it was Jeffery. The other picture was Peyton as a little girl, probably around nine or ten sitting in between her parents. She would make sure to pack both photos in case Peyton would want them.

Mikaela grabbed a large duffle bag from the closet and tossed it on the bed. Sam went over to the drawers and pulled the first one open. Grinning like an idiot, he lifted a black, lacy pair of underwear from the haphazard pile. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused him to look over at Mikaela, who, unlike him, was not smiling. Frown in place and one brow arched, Sam immediately dropped the underwear like it burned him.

"Get the clothes out of the closet, Casanova."

Sam obeyed without argument, pulling shirts and pants off the hangers and placing them in the duffle bag. Mikaela decided that it would be best if she handled Peyton's delicates. They ended up packing the duffle bag and a back pack or her belongings from clothes, shoes, her laptop, and hygiene products. Mikaela gently packed the photos to make sure they wouldn't get broken. While it typically took the average driver about two hours to get from Las Vegas to Tranquility to took them about half the time. Everyone knew that Bumblebee was a speed demon, but Ironhide had his moments too.

Within forty-five minutes everything was packed, cleaned out, and ready to go. Will took out the garbage and loaded Peyton's things into Ironhide and they headed back home. Sam sighed from the driver seat, getting Mikaela's attention.

"I'm so grounded," he lamented.

"Sorry," Mikaela offtered feebly.

" _Sucks to be you,"_ Bumblebee added.

"Thanks, Bee," Sam said. "It's nice to know you care."

"Maybe they won't," Mikaela tried. "They know that you have a lot of responsibilities now."

"They already don't like the fact that I drive a robot to school everyday," Sam stated. "I don't think they like that I'm cutting class with said robot and taking trips to Las Vegas."

"You'll be fine. Hey, we might be able to make it before fourth period starts."

"Oh, yeah? So what will our excuse be?"

"I'm going to have my aunt call me in late," Mikaela shrugged. "Since she doesn't know about any of this I'll have to make something up. Your parents know. It'll be easier for you."

Sam faced his girlfriend, seeing a blatantly annoyed expression on her face. Mikaela's aunt didn't know about the Autobots like his parents did. It was hard for her to get away sometimes since she always had to lie. Her father didn't know either. His parole was coming up and he would be out soon, but that would only make keeping the secret more difficult. Mikaela's mother walked out on her and her father when she was still relatively young. Mikaela had very few good memories of her. She moved in with her aunt, her father's older sister, when he was arrested and convicted on multiple counts of grand theft auto.

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly. "I forget sometimes that she doesn't know. I lucked out, I guess. Here I am complaining about getting grounded and you even tell your dad or aunt the truth."

Mikaela smiled at him, just a little, touched by how observant he could be. Sometimes she found herself comparing Sam to her previous boyfriends, not that she'd tell him. The big arms and the tight abs never seemed to measure up to Sam's kindness, sensitivity, and bravery. He was a great guy, funny and sweet and her best friend. Sam truly cared about her. He valued her opinion and thought the world of her. She just wasn't some trophy to hang on his arm like she was with Trent. No, she was really lucky to have him.

Mikaela leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, which surprised him, since he had thought she was mad at him. Her smile widened and she kissed him, which he responded to immediately.

Bee protested, _"Must you? Really?"_

"Shut up, Bee," the both said before kissing again.

" _Teenagers scare the living shit out of me!"_

* * *

Not far behind the Camaro Will leaned forward, staring through the front window with narrowed eyes as he watched the two shadows in the car ahead of him.

"Are they… _making out_?"

"Making out?"

"Look it up."

"Hn," Ironhide grunted after a moment, "looks like it. Humans have strange customs."

"You know, it's a good thing they really don't have to actually _drive_ or then we'd have a serious problem."

"Your and Sarah do that a lot as well. Don't think I haven't seen it."

"Yeah, well, we're married."

"And that garage episode twenty-three days ago was much worse then what those two are doing now."

"…I thought you were sleeping."

"You woke me up."

"…Great, well, this isn't awkward at all."

"I agree. Human intimacy should forever remain a very _private_ thing as far as I am concerned."

* * *

Jeffery and his team were back in another black SUV. Grant, Kelly, and Carter sat in the far back as Jeffery and Keller sat in the captain chairs. Banachek was driving while Simmons sat shotgun. The entire interior was silent. Emotions ranged from Carter being in denial while Grant seemed to be the most accepting out of everyone. Jeffery found himself curious. As strange, and somewhat terrifying, the notion of aliens was he really couldn't wait to actually see them in person.

He was a man of science and stood on the foundation that the universe was far too big to be alone in. He also couldn't wait to meet these autonomous life forms to ask them why the hell they kidnapped his goddaughter. Keller had only filled them in to an extent. The events in Mission City became clear and the four of them learned of the underground war that raged for eons on some distant planet, but ended up moving to Earth about a year ago. Keller had informed them that Optimus Prime would fill them in on the situation with Peyton. Jeffery took that as hint enough that Keller had no true idea what was going on with that.

The notion of the Autobots leaving was also brought up. If their war was now on Earth then why not tell them to leave and take it elsewhere. Turns out that it wasn't that simple. The Autobots were offered amnesty in exchange for their help with the Decepticons. Humans were involved now. It was a human boy that had destroyed the Decepticon leader, Megatron, and it didn't sit too well with the villain's followers. If the Autobots left, there was the chance that the Decepticons wouldn't immediately follow and the human race would be doomed.

So they all climbed into the SUV and took off towards Tranquility, Nevada where the Autobots were currently stationed. When asked why the hell they would be stationed in a suburb, Keller told them about their human contacts that all moved there after the battle to be close to one another. He also mentioned that after adjustments were made, they would all be moving to Nellis Air Force Base. They would be arriving in Tranquility within the hour and the closer they got the more Jeffery felt his anticipation swell. He couldn't wait to see her. He was going to hug her, yell at her and hug her again and shake her until her stupid head fell of her stupid shoulders, not to mention he had a few choice words for her.

Then he was going to hug her again and, perhaps, never let go.

Keller snapped his cell phone shut and looked over at Jeffery. "I just spoke with Optimus," he said. "They said they would wait for us to arrive."

"Good," Jeffery nodded.

"I asked about your employee as well," the man added. "He says she is fine. She'd taking everything in quite well, after the initial shock, of course. Turns out she fainted."

Carter laughed in the back seat. Kelly smacked him in the back of the head.

"But she's alright," Jeffery confirmed.

"Yes," Keller nodded. "She's alright."

Jeffery released a heavy breath. Leaning forward, he held his head in hi hands. He would have to call Ellen later to let her know her daughter wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere like she was probably speculating right now.

"Sir," Simmons said from up front, "I'm sure you're aware that too many people are learning about this. How do we keep them for leaking it?"

"Locking them up for the rest of their natural lives is not an option, Simmons, as much as you wish it were," Keller replied. "We'll just have to trust them to keep a secret." He looked over at Jeffery and grinned. "Or we will find a way to make their lives a living hell."

Jeffery grinned at the man's obviously veiled remark. It wasn't much longer until the SUV was winding a black top road, pulling off into the dirt and rolling up hill. On the hill top, standing in the morning sun, were several towering robotic figures, ranging in colors and size. The team really didn't know what to do at first, except stare. Keller, Simmons, and Banachek all got out without a second thought, but the other hesitated.

Outside, they hear Simmons call out, "So, where's the kid with the camaro and his criminal girlfriend?"

A booming voice with a southern drawl responded, "Watch it, fleshy."

"Oh," Simmons replied, "you must be the new guy."

"Easy, Hound," the yellow one with emergency lights said. "We just ignore that one."

Jeffery's eyes fell on the tallest robot, the one with the customs flames, standing a little further away, watching. At his feet stood a woman with blond hair. Jeffery was out of the car within seconds of seeing her, his team scrambling to follow.

"Peyton!" he called.

She turned quickly. Upon seeing them, a mixture of apprehension and relief flooded her face. Jeffery couldn't help but smile at seeing her completely unharmed, besides her fingers that were still wrapped, probably from her accident.

"Hey, Peyton," Carter waved cheerfully. "God, we leave you alone for ten minutes and you get yourself abducted by aliens."

"Shut up, Carter," she shouted back, but it wasn't angry. She rocked a little on her feet. "So, am I fired?"

"I was thinking about it," Jeffery said with a small grin. "But I kind of need you at the lab. So, instead, you're grounded."

Peyton laughed and was suddenly filled with a childish urge to run up to him and hug him as tightly as humanly possible. So she did. Breaking into a run she didn't stop until her surrogate father's arms were wrapped securely around her. Jeffery released a heavy breath.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know I shouldn't have gone after him."

"No, you shouldn't have, but you did so we'll just have to move on," he responded. "You should call your mother."

Peyton pulled back to stare at him. "Did you tell her?"

Jeffery looked guilty.

Sighing, Peyton pulled back and ran a hand through her hair. "Great. She'd probably freaking out. You do realize she's probably already downed the fifth of Jack she hides in the pantry, right?"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Jeffery asked feebly. "You're car was totaled, you were gone. You were supposed to go over for dinner and you never showed. Call her."

Peyton shook her head. "I'll call her later, promise. But first I think you should meet someone." Peyton smiled, looking a little lighter. "Jeffery this is Optimus Prime. Optimus, this is Jeffery Ellis."

Optimus knelt down in front of the team of CSIs. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Ellis."

"What do you know," Carter mused quietly, "a robot with manners."

Kelly elbowed him in the gut.

Jeffery nodded politely. "It's nice to meet you as well."

"And this is Grant, Kelly, and Carter," Peyton gestured. "I work with them too."

Kelly waved. "Hello."

Grant managed to wave as well, but he really didn't trust himself to speak. Optimus nodded in greeting and stood to his full height and introduced them to the other Autobots. Hound officially met the former Secretary of Defense and now Autobot Ambassador, Keller, who welcomed him to Earth.

"Jeffery," Peyton said cautiously, "I've decided to take you up on that vacation."

Jeffery stared at her, his expression grim. "And now I really don't like the sound of that."

"Yeah," Carter agreed. " _Peyton Callaghan_ wants to take a vacation. It's a sign on the Apocalypse."

"Shut up, Carter," they both replied.

Carter reared back in surprise. "Why'd everyone ganging up on me?"

Kelly patted his back. "You make it too easy."

"Why do you want a vacation all of a sudden?" Jeffery asked.

"Well…" Peyton started, tossing a pleading look up at Optimus.

"Peyton has agreed to become my human contact," Optimus interjected.

Jeffery looked back and forth between the two. The sheepish look on Peyton's face was enough to get him to understand what that job description entailed.

"You're staying here," he affirmed, "with him."

A looked of determination came to her brown eyes. "Yeah."

Jeffery hands shook as he reached out and grabbed the woman by the upper arm. "A word please."

Peyton didn't have much of a choice as she was dragged away from Optimus. Tossing him an apologetic look over her shoulder, she focused on keeping up with Jeffery lest she stumble and fall flat on her face. She wondered if she should warn the man that he could probably never get far enough, with the Autobot's advanced hearing, but then Jeffery might do something more drastic to put some distance between them and the Autobots.

When Jeffery felt they were far enough, he dropped her arm and rounded on her, enraged. "Are you out of your damn mind?" he hissed between his teeth.

Peyton sighed, not at all surprised. Jeffery would like to think he was above overly emotional displays that her mother was prone too, but as far as she was concerned, Jeffery and Ellen were two peas in a pod.

"I know what I'm doing," she stated. "I want to help him."

"What about your career? Your family? What about me?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'll never see you again."

"You could die, Peyton!"

Any argument died in her throat as she stared at him with a loss for words.

"You could die and then what am I supposed to do?" he asked, no pleaded. "What is your mother supposed to do?"

Peyton's eyes shifted towards the ground. He was bringing up the reasons she initially had when she refused Optimus' offer. It was dangerous, she could die, and she knew, better than anyone, that her mother wouldn't be able to take it. Peyton's family crumbled when he father was killed and Jeffery had been left scrambling to try and keep to the two of them from falling apart entirely. Having her grandfather move in helped. It gave Ellen another person to dote on and she needed the distraction, but when Ellen tried to cling to Peyton, keep her close in fear of losing her too, it only pushed Peyton away.

Those were dark days, where Peyton just didn't give a damn about herself or her future, rebutting family concern with cynicism and anger. Jeffery getting her interested in forensics had been the most influential factor for her getting her life back on track. But this? Getting involved with a secret alien war? Talk about foolhardy.

But Jeffery had always told her to follow her instincts and right now, her instincts where telling her that staying was the right thing to do.

She watched Jeffery's face dropped in anguish, watched as he shook his head in denial and steeped away from her.

She didn't know what to say other than, "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," she replied. "I want to help him, all of them if I can. I'll be alright."

Jeffery laugh sardonically, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"He'll keep me safe," Peyton stated.

"How do you know that?"

"He said he would."

"And you just believe him?"

"I do."

"You barely know him."

Peyton bit her lip. That was true. "I…I trust him, Jeffery. He won't let anything happen to me if he can help it."

"Dr. Ellis."

Both turned to see Optimus standing a few yards away, looking down at both of them with a determine gaze in his glowing blue eyes.

Peyton frowned at him. "You should not be able to sneak up on people like that. How did you do that?"

Optimus's gaze lightened, only slightly, in amusement as he focused on Jeffery. "You have my word, Dr. Ellis," Optimus voiced strongly. "I will protect Peyton with my life."

Peyton's brown eyes widened in alarm. "Whoa, there buddy, that's a little steep. I can take care of myself part of the time, you know."

Jeffery stared up at the looming figure, never heaving felt so small, literally and figuratively, in his entire life. Jeffery was a minute fraction of Optimus's age, according to Keller, and here Jeffery was, trying to stare him down like he was a teenage boy trying to date the girl he had known for her entire life as well as having a hand in raising. But there was some sort of silent understanding. Jeffery was never married. He never had children of his own. Peyton was the only family that he had and he was afraid to lose her. Optimus could relate, given how many lives their war took, so Optimus nodded instead of voicing his understanding.

Jeffery deflated. Sighing, he wouldn't approve of it, but he would accept it. He didn't now Optimus for that long, fifteen minutes at best, but he would see the fierce determination and resolve in him that could make him feel a little more comfortable with the idea. Looking to Peyton, she looked eager to what he would have to say, wanting his approval and his support.

Finally he nodded. "You are going to call me everyday," he said.

She smiled. "I'm not a kid you know."

"It's not for you," he replied. "It's for me. I don't want to lose my sanity when you don't call."

"Fine, but how about texting?"

"That will work."

"What about Mom?"

"I'll figure out something," he offered. "Call her too. She's probably driving your grandfather nuts."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have told her."

Carter stepped forward. "I still don't like this."

Peyton and Jeffery hadn't noticed his, Kelly, or Grant's approached either.

Peyton's eyes narrowed at him. "Well, this isn't really any of your business, Carter."

Carter looked like he wanted to refute that statement, but mouth snapped shut. The look Peyton was giving him should have made him spontaneously combust.

"Will you two ever quit?" Grant asked exasperatedly.

The two sent him equal looks of skepticism.

Grant rolled his eyes.

"I apologize that neither Bumblebee nor Ironhide were here to meet you," Optimus said. "They should be returning from Peyton's residence with her things."

"How'd they even get them?" Kelly asked.

"Sam, Mikaela, and Will," Peyton answered. "Their human contacts. We thought it would be a bad idea for a missing CSI and a missing piece of evidence from a homicide to suddenly show up in town."

"Oh, about that," Jeffery said. "Just out of curiosity, what were you doing there?"

"Jeffery," Peyton reprimanded, "this isn't an interrogation."

"No, it's alright," Optimus said. "I had pulled off the road to rest. I came upon the scene as victim died."

"A man and a woman, right?" Jeffery asked.

"Yes."

"What did the woman look like?"

"Blonde hair, thin, tall, green eyes. I believe she was the one to carry out the act of stabbing the victim. The man was holding him down."

"Huh," Peyton mused. "How'd you get blood on your door?"

Optimus's optics flickered down to her, amused. "I thought this wasn't an interrogation."

Peyton grinned teasingly. "You pegged my curiosity."

"When they became aware of me presence they tried to get in. Perhaps to do away with human driver they assumed would be there. When they could not they left the scene in a bronze 1979 Plymouth Volaré."

"You kept your door shut, like you always did in the garage."

"After you put all the print dust in my interior I wasn't letting you in for anything else."

"Smartass," she said warmly.

"So it was a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time," Jeffery stated. "Then you also made the call?"

"It seemed as though no one else would, so yes I made the call to the proper authorities."

"Why didn't you leave?" Peyton asked.

Optimus crossed his arms. "I really don't know. I suppose I just wanted to make sure the man was found."

"Well, then, it's probably a good thing you stuck around," Peyton smiled.

Optimus looked down at her and nodded.

"Aw!" said Glen. "They're having a moment."

"That's nearly as bad as one of yours," Sides added with a teasing grin.

Peyton sent a look at Glen, who turned to glare up at Sides who didn't look down at his annoyed human, but maintained his smile.

"So, Kelly," Peyton started shifting her attention to her co-worker, "you gonna pick up my slack?"

"Sure," the other responded. "I'll get them."

"Check to see if Almaraz had a girlfriend on the side," she suggested. "Also, check out Julian Kent. It might his lady friend as well."

"Will do."

"I'll try to get you out of evidence," Jeffery said to Optimus. "We already lifted the partial print and took the photos and I don't think that the judge would like it if we rolled in a huge semi to testify."

"Thank you," Optimus said gratefully.

"We need to get back to the lab," Jeffery told Peyton, slightly disappointed. He looked over at Keller. "Unless you need to stay."

"No," Keller said. "I think this crisis has been averted and I have pile of paperwork on my desk."

Jeffery nodded. "Alright," he said. He hugged Peyton again. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yeah," she replied.

Jeffery smiled, though it didn't meet his eyes. "You're just like your father. Once you set your mind to something..."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You probably shouldn't. Your father was an annoyingly stubborn SOB."

But Peyton only smiled, undeterred. "I'll call you tomorrow." She looked over at Kelly. "I expect to hear how the case ends."

Kelly smiled and hugged her as well. "As soon as I finish it."

"Get Grant to help you," Peyton suggested.

Grant looked offended. "I was going to."

Peyton turned awkwardly towards Carter. "Try to be too much of an ass while I'm gone."

Carter's smile was tight. "No promises. Take care of yourself."

Carter, Grant and Kelly headed for the SUV and piled inside after saying further farewells to the Autobots. Jeffery hugged Peyton one more time. "Please be safe," he pleaded. He looked up at Optimus. "And you take care of her."

Optimus nodded. "You have my word."

Pulling back Jeffery placed a fatherly kiss on her forehead before heading over to the SUV. Keller, Simmons, and Banachek followed.

"Call me with any further updates," Keller said to Optimus.

"Call your mother!" Jeffery reminded. "Let her know you're still alive."

"I will," she said.

He climbed into the truck and shut the door as the engine came to life. Peyton watched it until it disappeared around the corner.

"Alrighty then," Peyton said turning to face everyone. "What's next?"

* * *

A/N: I wanted Jeffery to give Peyton a harder time about her decision as well as kind of give hints as to what Carter thought about it. Hopefully that came across. As always, I don't have a beta so all mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.

Please Review!

-Ray


	12. A Gentlemen's Agreement

11\. A Gentlemen's Agreement

Sam had miraculously managed to convince his parents that going to Vegas in the middle of the night was a necessary evil in the fight to protect humanity, but was warned that he would not be doing it again anytime soon without consequences. Judy seemed to be a little more understanding, considering her son's new responsibilities, but Ron was less then thrilled and it took some coaxing from his wife to calm down. Sam couldn't help but noticed how their former roles had reversed as in who was the more neurotic and curfew controlling parent.

He had no idea how Mikaela did with her aunt. The woman was almost as overbearing as his parents. Given Mikaela's legal history as well as her father's, she was kept on a relatively tight leash. After Mission City, Mikaela was grounded for three weeks for not checking in for almost two days and it wasn't like she could actually tell her aunt the truth. When Sam had come to pick up Mikaela for school one day the woman had given him the third degree. Bumblebee was a little unnerved as well, given that he felt that if Sam was being interrogated, it was a direct attack on Bumblebee's skills as a guardian.

Sam climbed up the stairs to his room. His parents said they'd call him in sick for the day since he just got back. He really loved his mom when she wasn't completely humiliating him in front of his friends and Mikaela. Flopping down on his bed he was seconds from sleep when Mojo barked from the floor.

Sam wordlessly snatched the little dog from the ground and pulled him up on the bed. Mojo's cast was gone and with it his pain pills. Thankfully, the little dog managed to get over his small addiction, but it resulted in a lot of laziness. While in his cast, Mojo would do anything but sit still, running all over the place, hell, he even peed on Ironhide, but now he liked to be picked up and carted everywhere. He hardly jumped anymore and if he were any worse, he'd be hand fed with a spoon.

His cell phone went off. Sam grabbed it from his night stand, making sure not to crush his dog that had flopped down at his side as he rolled over to get it. He had the intention of ignoring the call and just going to sleep, but it was Mikaela.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted. "How'd it go?"

"Well, I'm not grounded," she replied heavily. "How about you?"

"My Mom is my hero," he stated with a small laugh. "She's even going to call me in so I don't have to go to school today."

"Lucky."

"You're going?"

"Have to. I told her that I spent the night at Jessica's. I called her to cover for me."

"And what was your excuse for spending the night at Jessica's?"

"Project in Biology," Mikaela muttered through a yawn.

"And she bought it?"

"Jessica's pretty convincing."

"So what are you doing?"

"Well, I think I'll try to sleep a little bit before I have to go to school. Try not to sleep in too late."

"I won't," Sam said. "I better get to sleep too. I'll pick you up at the usual time, okay?"

"But I thought your mom was calling you on."

"Hey, if you're going then I'm going. It's only one day. I think I'll manage."

"Sam," Mikaela said, "you don't have to."

Sam only smiled. "Your welcome. See you later."

He could hear the smile in Mikaela's voice. "See ya."

He waited until she hung up first before telling his mother that he would be going to school after all. Surprisingly enough, it was his father who questioned the decision.

"You sure?" he asked. "It's only one day."

"Yeah, but Mikaela's aunt is making her go. It wouldn't feel right making her go in alone."

Judy touched her son's arm gently. "Well, that's very sweet of you," she stated with a wide smile. "I really like that girl so you do all you can to get her to stick around. She's nice and really pretty. And I mean really, _really_ pretty."

"Mom," Sam sighed exasperatedly.

"Well she is," she replied.

Sam shook his head and moved towards the stairs. "I'm going to bed. I can at least get two hours in before I have to go. Goodnight."

"Good morning!" Judy called after him.

Trekking back up the stairs to his room, he made sure to pick up Mojo again before he started barking. Collapsing on the bed, Mojo curled against his side, he stared up at the ceiling, not falling asleep quite yet, as he massaged his hands together.

Sam suddenly hissed, bringing his hands to his face. They were slightly red, like he had placed them in hot water. Frowning, he shook his hands out and rolled onto his side. Mojo huffed at him, momentarily disturbed. He didn't want to worry about his hands. It wasn't like it was anything new. For a few weeks now his hands had been hurting, like they were burned and he had his suspicions. But he didn't want to think about it. Closing his eyes, he clenched his throbbing hands into fists and pulled them to his chest, hoping he could ignore them enough to fall asleep.

* * *

Starscream's predicament was deteriorating rapidly. More and more people seemed to notice his presence on the base, something he really didn't need. Leading officials were checking him out at well, running his serial number and everything. He didn't like where this was going, but thankfully he already took minor steps to by himself more time. He scanned the serial number of the jet that the human, Kale, piloted. Switching serial numbers with the less sentient jet had been a little tricky, but he managed. The other jet was then removed from the base and Starscream took its place. No seemed the wiser except for Kale. The man was unsure what to do when he saw what took the place of his jet.

"You're gonna kill me, aren't you?"

Of course, Starscream hadn't answered. No, he already decided to confront Kale about why he didn't report the Decepticon when they went for the next routine patrol within a few minutes. The human confused him. It wasn't like he truly cared. Perhaps he was more curious then anything.

Kale came up on deck with the few other pilots, looking a little pale and sweating nervously. Starscream couldn't help but feel a little pleased by this. At lest the cretin knew that what he was getting himself into, _literally_ , could very well end badly for him.

Starscream watched Tristan briskly walk to his friend and lean towards his ear. Starscream turned up his audio sensors to pick up the conversation.

"Dude," Tristan whispered, "now would probably be a good time to tell them about the you-know-what."

"No," Kale said with a heavy breath. "Let's…just see what happens."

"You are fucking crazy," Tristan hissed. "This was a bad idea from the start. I should've told someone before it got this far. Now you have to go up in that thing."

"Maybe he won't try anything," Kale suggested. "People can change. He might not be on their side anymore."

" _People_ , Kale. The key word there is ' _people_.' This is not people. It's a killing machine!"

"I can handle this."

"No, you can't!" Tristan spat, his voice cracking with his harsh whispering. "No you can't, Kale. This is bigger then both of us, _literally_. We have to tell someone _now_."

"No," Kale said, determinedly.

"Do you even listen to yourself sometimes?" Tristan asked. "How can you defend something that helped tear a city apart?"

"We need to give this a chance," Kale continued to argue.

"You're so fucking naïve!" came his friend's condescending reply.

"Do we have a problem, gentlemen?"

Both pilots spun around to face a cross looking older man in uniform, glaring at them from behind a pair of aviators. Tristan cast a look at Kale out of the corner of his eye. Kale's dark eyes pleaded, begged him not to say anything.

"No, sir!"

"Sounds to me like you were having a lovers' spat. Care to share?"

"No, sir!"

"Get out of here."

"Yes, sir!"

It was practically the same thing they heard every time before patrol. No messing around, no death defying stunts, and no firing until you've been fired upon first or orders specifying otherwise. Soon they all split to their separate jets. Tristan watching as Kale made his way towards his "jet" hesitantly, but not enough to gain attention. He watched as the ladder was moved into place and the cockpit opened. Climbing in, Kale kept his hands to himself, after strapping himself in and gave the thumbs up to the deck hand. Kale moved to start it when it roared to life on its own.

"Okay!" Kale exclaimed worriedly. "Okay, alright, I won't touch anything."

He swore he heard a satisfied 'humph' come through his headset.

Starscream did not, repeat, did _not_ like having the human sitting inside of him. It was weird. Pulling out onto the runway he was one of the first to get into the air.

Tristan opened his communications and tried to get a hold of Kale only to be met with static. He tried and tried again, but there was nothing. He was starting to panic. Oh, God, what if the thing killed him already.

"Something wrong?"

Tristan looked over at the deck hand, who had stopped his trek down the ladder to frown at him worriedly. Shaking his head, he offered a shaky smile and a thumbs up. Taking off he immediately went to Kale. Upon seeing his best friend still moving he released a heavy breath of relief.

Kale looked around the cockpit. It looked no different then any other he had been in. All the gizmos and gadgets seemed right. Everything was regulation. But, maybe it was because he already knew that this particular jet was alive, there was something that would set one off about being in it. Something that made one feel small, insignificant, and, dare he think it, helpless.

"So, um," Kale started softly, "how are you today?"

"Listen, maggot," Starscream replied, "I don't like humans. I never have, I never will, so let's get one thing straight here. You will not speak unless spoken to. I am the one asking the questions, not you."

Damn, well, that was one hell of a conversation starter.

"Why didn't you and the other one report me? You have every opportunity to."

"Uh, well," Kale said, "I kind of wanted to, um, see what you would do first."

"…"

"Weird, huh?"

"You know who I am." It wasn't a question.

"One of the bad guys." It wasn't a suggestion.

"Decepticon," Starscream affirmed. "You know what I'm capable of. You know how easy it would be for me to kill you."

Kale swallowed thickly. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself for a gruesome fate. "If you were really looking to kill everyone on base you would have done it by now. You've been here for three weeks. You waiting for an invitation?"

The whole cockpit shook. "What did I just get down telling you?"

Kale refused to back down. "What you hate humans blah, blah, blah. How easily you could kill me blah, blah, blah," he mocked. "Really, man, you're like the villain from a sci-fi movie. Not very original."

Starscream suddenly took off away from the group, spinning through the air, far too fast and hard for Kale's body to withstand. Rising up and up the force was nearly crushing. Starscream jammed all the frequencies incoming to him, communications and otherwise. The humans at the base would be momentarily startled by the lack of transmission, but it would only be considered a blip. When his scanners on Kale indicated that, with his heart racing and lungs struggling to take in air, he was on the verge of passing out Starscream stopped and made his decent at a tolerable rate. Kale panted and tried to clear his blurry vision.

"Do not test me human," Starscream said. "You will lose."

"Got it," came a strangled reply.

The communications suddenly opened and Kale was assaulted by many voice, most yelling at him, but one was filled with frantic concern, continuously asking if he was alright.

"I'm fine, Tristan," he said. "Sorry, guys. She's a little touchy today."

The cockpit shook angrily. "I am not female."

 _I don't even know what you are,_ Kale thought.

"Well, get a handle on it," Tristan said. "Don't—"

Static.

"Tristan?" Kale tried. "Come in."

"I cut communications," Starscream stated. "I don't need any of them hearing our conversation."

"Right," Kale said, leaning back in his seat.

"You've know since I arrived who I was," he began. "You are more observant than your superiors."

"Heh, well, I've been known for that."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

The jet was quiet for a while. Simply flying, leading the group. Tristan stuck close by should anything else happen, though Kale was pretty sure he was on his own for this one. Besides trying to shoot him and the Decepticon out of the sky, there wasn't anything Tristan could do to help him at this point.

"Uh," Kale said quietly, as if not wanting to be heard, "can I ask you something? And please don't bite my head off...literally or figuratively."

"…Fine."

"Do you have a name?"

"…Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I can't just be calling you Jet or something…unless that's really your name."

The cockpit was silent for a moment. "It's Starscream."

"Then I guess it's nice to meet you, Starscream. I'm Kale."

The mech huffed. "I already know who you are. Now be quiet."

"Shutting up…after one more question."

Starscream would've rolled his optics if he could, despite it being a very human gesture. "What?"

"Can you promise me that you won't attack us? I know you're buddies are down in the trench, but I think if you were really here to get them you would've figured out how already, right? So I swear I won't report you. In return you give me your word that you won't attack the base."

Starscream really thought about the proposition. He detected a leap in the human's heart rate, indicating that he had probably expected a quick answer, preferably one if his favor. As far as he could see it, Starscream had no reason to attack the humans on the base, even if he wasn't a fan of their species. Still, Starscream couldn't help but agree with one human on a certain, blatantly true description.

"You're friend is right," Starscream said. "You truly are very naïve."

"Not naïve. Maybe optimistic?"

"In consideration to the wellbeing of your base and your fellow soldiers stationed there, I have no reason to attack you. You have my word."

Kale sighed, clearly relieved. "Thanks, man."

"Granted, if you were to, say, _piss me off_ , to turn a human phrase, then all bets would then be off."

Starscream could still hear the smile in the man's voice. "You have no idea how much better that makes me feel."

"I though you agreed to shut up."

Kale went quiet, but happiness was still rolling off him in waves. Starscream found it moderately irritating.

The rest of the flight was silent except for when Starscream opened his communications again so Kale could hear his other comrades, but like he ordered, the human stayed quiet, only answering when he was specifically called upon, mostly by Tristan. When they finally landed, Kale was happy to get out and Starscream was happy to see him leave. Do to the rough ride from when Kale had mouthed off his knees gave out a little but Tristan caught him before he hit the ground and make it look even more suspicious.

"That's it," Tristan growled angrily. "I'm done. You could've killed him!" he hissed at the jet.

"Stop, Tristan," Kale said. "I'm fine. See?" He stood at his full height to demonstrate.

Tristan still looked unconvinced. "For now. What if he pulls another stunt like that?"

"Don't worry about it," he assured. "Let's go. I'm hungry."

Tristan cast one last hateful glare over his shoulder before following his best friend. Starscream watched them leave; still surprised Kale was not allowing Tristan to report him. Eventually, most of the people on deck left and the sun disappeared from the sky. He didn't know why he was more relaxed all of a sudden, probably due to the fact that Starscream threated to kill Kale if he got too out of line and yet the man didn't nothing to blow his cover. So that night, for the first time in a long time, Starscream allowed himself to fall into recharge a little less worried about waking up in the middle of the night was a slew of guns aimed at him.

* * *

"Are you sure it's alright if I stay here? I can stick probably check into a motel or something," Peyton said as she and Maggie set up the pullout couch bed in the living room.

"Don't worry about it," she reassured. "I'm sorry I couldn't offer you the second bedroom. I'll clean it out this weekend."

"You don't have to," the other girl said. "This is perfectly fine. I already feel like I'm imposing."

"Hey I asked you if you wanted to come here," she replied. "You're not imposing."

Peyton sighed, seeing that there was no more room for arguments. She was truly grateful to Maggie for letting her stay with her in her apartment. Sunny was parked in the alley on the side of the building with Optimus, deciding to stick with his leader when it became apparent that a huge semi sitting in an apartment parking lot would not go over well with the other residents.

Peyton couldn't help but feel a little guilty about leaving him out there alone, but he assured her he would be find and that he wasn't alone. Maggie ended up having to pull her by the arm into the building. Taking a shower, she welcomed the warm, clean feeling it gave her before changing into a pair of baggy sweats and a hoodie, feeling content and snug.

As it turned out, Maggie and Glen worked for Keller now. While Keller was in DC they stayed in Tranquility in close contact with the Autobots, learning about their technology and converting it into terms humans would understand. Maggie loved her job and it paid great, but it was exhausting, but with Hound around now they were hoping that it would be a little easier given that even though the Autobot was new, Hound already had a great understanding of humans and their learning curve. And while Maggie was happy another Autobot had arrived, she still didn't like having to be woken up before sunrise and was deprived of valued sleeping time. Optimus confessed that Maggie could get downright violent if she didn't get her required eight hours in one way or another.

"Well, I have to get up in _four hours_ ," she moaned, "so I'm going to bed. Feel free to watch TV if you want."

Peyton climbed into the pullout bed and sighed happily like it was a bed at the Bellagio. "Thanks again. Night."

Maggie disappeared into her bedroom and Peyton was left with a remote in her hand, idly flicking through the stations, and rim lamp sitting on the coffee table next to her. That had happened to her in the past twenty-four hours was something our of a comic book or sci-fi movie, but the more she thought about it the more she seemed to get used to it. There was still a looming fear insider her about the future. It was a war after all and people tended to die in wars, but at the same time there was that underlining excitement not unlike the same rush she would get from her job when she was hot on the trail of a case she was working. Being apart of something much bigger in the world then herself, it made her feel important.

Peyton reached over and killed the lamp. She watched the infomercial on kitchen knives that never dulled for a few minutes, thought about a case she had worked when an abused housewife stabbed her husband in his sleep with one of those kinds of knives, then thought about Hector Almaraz, then turned off the TV. There was no point in thinking about that case. Kelly was all over it and Peyton didn't doubt that she could handle it.

Scooting down on the bed, she shoved a fluffy pillow under her head. Curling up under the covers she smiled, staring out the window into the alley, knowing exactly who was out there. Allowing her eyes to slip shut she fell asleep within seconds.

* * *

Optimus, sitting in his alternate form, had been monitoring Peyton's vitals up in the apartment detected when she had fallen asleep. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed when she turned him down at first. He thought her to be a pretty level headed human, until she got overly excited of course, and he admitted her skills in her field. She was observant and always thinking, but there was a coyness in her personality that made her more enjoyable. He thought she was an interesting human.

When she came back he was surprised. She seemed like that type to stick to her gun when she made a decision, but at the same time he was glad she changed her mind. She was more relaxed and content then when she had left. Whatever Sideswipe had said to her must've enlightened her very much. Optimus would have to thank him again.

"Permission to speak, sir?"

Optimus shifted his attention to the said Autobot's twin. "Granted."

"Sir, I've been thinking," Sunny began seriously. "The war isn't over, even with the All Spark gone, but do you think that maybe…"

Optimus would have frowned if he was capable in this form. Sunstreaker was always one to speak his mind without hesitance. First asking for permission then trailing off in a sentence was uncommon for him. The tone of the smaller mech's voice was unnerving. It was seldom that Sunstreaker ever sounded, dare he consider it, _helpless_.

"Sunstreaker," Optimus said gently, "what's troubling you?"

"What if Earth is destroyed like Cybertron because of this war?" Sunny asked. "The humans simply can't leave like we did. What if…?"

Optimus shifted on his tires. Sunny's alternated form was utterly motionless. "You fear for Maggie's fate if this planet were to fall like ours."

Sunny remained silent.

Optimus sighed, sinking further towards the pavement. "I, too, have considered the possibility that our war could destroy this world. I know that the humans would be trapped and would inevitably perish if it came to that. For now, we will wait. I have already decided that if the planet's stability becomes an issue we will lead the Decepticons away, if possible."

"And if we can't?" Sunstreaker asked. "The Decpeticons want to destroy the humans more then ever since it was a human child that kill Megatron, not to mention destroyed the All Spark. What makes you think they'll come after us right away if we leave? Who's to say they won't simply destroy the humans?"

"No one," Optimus said softly. "If we were to leave there is not a doubt in my mind that the Decepticons would destroy everything before following us. We will not leave the humans unprotected, Sunstreaker. Not if there is no way to guarantee their safety first. I refuse to let what happened to Cybertron happen here."

"Yeah, I kind of like it here, too. Besides," he replied with a chuckle, "if we tried to leave I think Maggie would throw a fit."

"She probably would," Optimus agreed, a smile in his voice, "I sure all the humans we have come to befriend would be less then pleased about us leaving."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while until Sunstreaker announced he was going to get some rest. Optimus stayed awake for a while longer, his scanners working at full capacity. The warrior in him told him to stay awake because he was a sitting duck, but the civilian, who he had been before the war told him to relax, that he was too uptight. He checked on Maggie and Peyton. Their heartbeats had slowed and their breathing was shallow and even. They were in deep sleep now.

He focused on Peyton's heartbeat, strong and steady. The pulse wasn't unlike their sparks, teeming with energy and giving them life. For humans, their brains controlled the body, sending signals to organs and muscles. This relationship wasn't something humans could not control. It was all automatic. For Cybertronians, however, everything was ties to their sparks, even their processors. The sure way to kill them was to take out their sparks. Everything else was repairable to a great extent. But still, there were a lot of similarities between a human heart and spark. When excited or scared or angry the pulses sped up. When sad or hurt emotionally, humans suffered from something called 'heartbreak.' It wasn't a real medical condition, but if held gravity with them. He supposed that Cybertronians then could suffer from 'spark break.' As he thought back on the final battle in which Cybertron fell, he knew a part of him died that terrible day.

Optimus shook himself out of his thoughts. No, he couldn't afford to entertain civilian whims, especially now that he had his contact to look after. Still, he allowed Peyton's steady heartbeat to wash over him and settled for a meditative state what would allow him rest without having to shut down completely and manage to keep vigil.

* * *

The lone Black Hawk hardly stuck out at all against the dark night sky. Typically, it would seem that the copter was way off course, flying over the Pacific Ocean, yet it definitely had a course in mind.

Vortex had been flying for hours when he finally spotted a mass on one of the Marianna Islands. The small base was moderately dark, most of the occupants fast asleep. Sure enough, it was located exactly where Soundwave had told him. The Marianna Trench, the deepest place on Earth, where their leader lay dormant waiting to be resurrected to take revenge on the Autobots and humans that put him down there in the first place. This small naval base was the only think standing in the way of that moment. But as Vortex drew nearer he detected something he had not been expecting.

"Starscream," he mused to himself, both shocked and terrifyingly amused.

The Decepticon, if one could even call him that now, was not aware of Vortex's approach. It was rare that one could ever catch Starscream off-guard, yet here he was, drawing ever closer and the mech had not awakened from his recharge status.

On the base he was sure that the night watch was wondering what would have scrambled their equipment and jammed their radar. It was when he flew overhead that Starscream was finally alert to his presence. Transforming, Vortex dropped down on to a line of jets, destroying them in his entrance and shot at the remaining, making sure that the humans would have nothing to retaliate with. Fire erupted on the deck and Vortex only added by shooting off his canons and missiles. The single jet near the end of the line came to life, shifting and growing into a very angry and very surprised Starscream.

The jet aimed the gun on his arm. "What are you doing here, Vortex?" he demanded.

"I'm sure you know who's beneath these waters, Starscream," Vortex said, mirroring Starscream pose with his own canon. "I think it's high time he came out, don't you?"

Starscream's red optics narrowed dangerously. "No, I do not."

An eerily sadistic grin came to Vortex's face. "That's what I hoped you would say."

The first shot came from Starscream, which Vortex avoided easily enough by diving to the side. Alarms pierced the air as Vortex charge at Starscream who didn't retreat like Vortex thought he would. Instead, Starscream sprinted forward, gun raised and the battle began; Decepticon versus Decepticon.

* * *

A/N: I changed the title to this chapter to "A Gentlemen's Agreement" because of the deal that Kale and Starscream come to. I had fun working through the dialogue between the two. Okay, granted, it is entirely stupid that Kale wouldn't tell anyone about Starscream and that Tristan would let Kale talk him into keeping his mouth shut. I realize that there would've been a lot of consequences for Kale in the long run. Soooooo that be a new issue to come up in future chapters. Thanks for reading!

Please Review

-Ray


	13. Night Terrors

12\. Night Terrors

Kale awoke to violent shaking and shouting. Sitting up, he was unceremoniously tossed from his bunk as another violent explosion shook the ground.

"What the fuck is going on?" his roommate cried over the noise.

Kale's first thought was that Starscream went back on his word and was attacking the base or at least had something to do with this. The thought made him furious, but he quickly dashed the idea from his mind. He wouldn't let himself jump to conclusions. Scrambling to his feet he managed to get himself to a pair of pants and his boots before stumbling out of his bunk.

Rushing down the hall with little or no balance he ran in the direction of the exit, pushing past his disorientated and confused comrades as he did so. Tristan shot out of his own bunk and wasn't far behind him, yelling at him to stop or wait, but Kale was set on getting out onto the deck. Throwing himself through a steel door the clean, salty smell of the ocean that usually greeted him had corroded into burning oil and metal that stung the inside of his nose and the night sky illuminated by the orange glow of fire.

His view was obstructed as a massive metal form of dark armor dropped before him, staring down at him with red optics full of disgust and hate. Falling on his ass under the sheer power of the being in front of him, Kale stared slacked jawed up at Vortex in fear while the Decepticon chortled with superiority.

Starscream only saw Kale as the man emerged from within the barracks because Vortex was standing over him and Vortex was _a lot_ more noticeable. Starscream glanced down at his injured shoulder and cursed. It hurt, but it was bearable. Perhaps he had gotten rusty while he was lazing about, hiding from his former comrades. Growling he pushed himself up and aimed a well trained missile at Vortex's back. Last minute, he aimed for the mech's shoulder, causing him to spin around and to the right. To hit him directly in the back would make him fall and crush Kale. Starscream cursed again, loudly.

Vortex turned, a ferocious look to him, but Starscream didn't back down. "Our fight isn't over, Vortex!" he called, keeping his adversary's attention on him. Out of the corner of his optic, he saw Kale scramble to get to his feet and duck for cover. "Risking my life for a human," he missed to himself, grinning bitterly, "I must be out of my slagging mind."

Vortex sprang forward in a dead charge, which Starscream countered. They met in a clash of grinding gears and scraping metal. Sparks flew between them as Vortex took the other down, pinning him on his back, only feet from where Kale had hidden. Starscream threw his weight away from the human, managing to roll them away and give Kale another chance to find more suitable cover. Starscream quickly realized that he was going to get himself killed worrying about the human's safety.

Kale stood from his hiding spot and watched the wrestling robots feeling helpless. "Starscream!"

Vortex grabbed the back of Starscream's head and delivered a large fist into the middle of his face. Dropping him onto his knee, he knocked him away. The F-22 rolled until coming to an uncomfortable heap on his side, but still managing to arrange his canon arm to aim directly at Vortex's chest. Vortex managed to dodge enough to keep the shot from striking his spark, but he didn't get away unscathed. The shot knocked him back to where Kale stood near the antenna farm. Rubble started to fall and it would've sure crushed the small human if Starscream hadn't thrown himself over him, catching all the rubble on his back.

Kale lowered the arms that he had raised for feeble protection, staring into blatantly annoyed red eyes as Starscream shook of the debris. "Why'd you do that?"

"You humans are too fragile," he spat in reply.

"That doesn't explain why you saved me."

"Shut up," Starscream ordered. "Go hide or something. You're in my way."

"Where?" Kale asked, his voice cracking.

"I don't know!" he yelled in exasperation. "You stay here and you die! Damn! You useless human! Just stay behind me!"

Kale's eyes widened further in surprise. Starscream got his feet as did Vortex. The two Decepticons stared each other down. Kale struggled to stand as the fires set off more explosions, along with destroying more planes on the deck. He watched the darker robot approach, only to have his vision blocked by Starscream's foot.

"It seems you've acquired a pet," Vortex mocked. "How can you protect something so disgusting, Starscream? This is low, even for you."

Starscream growled angrily in response, shifting into a more ready defensive stance.

"You're weaker then I could have ever imagined," Vortex added.

"I'll show you weak," Starscream spat back.

Holding up his canon his fired. As Vortex dodged, Starscream charged again, tackling the other to the ground. As they slid away, concrete buckled and bunched under the weight of their bodies. Kale was forced to watch. His fellow soldiers were running around, trying to get out of their way. Kale turned away when some didn't make it. Bodies were tossed around by explosions, jets were turned over and broken like little plastic toys. Kale had not seen much action in his still new military career, but he more then had his fill.

"Kale!"

He spun around at the sound of his name. A fist was the only thing that greeted him, striking him in the cheek and forcing him to spin around to the ground. Seeing stars, he was well aware that it was Tristan that had sent his fist rocketing at his face. He tried to push himself up as his friend ranted furiously at him.

"I fucking knew it!" he yelled over all the noise. "You should've reported him you stupid son of a bitch! You should've reported him! This is all your fault!"

"He's trying to help us!" Kale shouted back, wiping the blood from his chin from a split lip. "He's trying to save us!"

"He's one of _them!"_

"No, he's not! Look at him!"

But Tristan refused. Instead, he charged at Kale, intent on being the shit out of him in their apparent final moments. Kale had always been the better fighter, even when they were kids wrestling in the back yard. Grabbing his arm, he spun the younger man around the face the dueling robots, keeping him a firm headlock, applying pressure in the right places to make sure he had his attention.

"Look at him!" his whispered harshly into Tristan's ear. "They're not on the same side!"

True to that, Starscream was getting his metal ass handed to him on a silver platter. He didn't have the opportunity to completely stand before Vortex was knocking him back down, laughing manically with glee and malicious taunts. Tristan struggled as if he didn't want to be faced with a truth he didn't want to acknowledge, but Kale refused to let go.

"For fuck's sake, Tristan, _look at him!"_

"Fine!" he finally relented. Kale let him go and Tristan shoved away from him coldly. "But this is still your fault." He faced his best friend, eyes full of fury. "If you would've told someone about him then maybe we could have prepared ourselves for the other one."

Kale couldn't say whether Tristan was right or wrong. He didn't know how much of a difference it really would have made in the long run, but he couldn't think about that right now. Right now, Starscream needed help and since it looked like no one else would be jumping to it he was going to have to take care of it. Without a word to Tristan, kale took off in full out sprint towards the remaining fighters, hoping to snag one before the fire reached them. He didn't need to see the look on Tristan's face to know the other man was horrified by what Kale was about to do.

"KALE!" he cried desperately as he took off after him. "Kale, no!"

Kale ignored him. Dodging flying debris and stray shots he didn't look back. There was more then one close call, but either he really didn't pay attention or he just didn't care. He didn't slow down, not until she got a ladder and pushed it towards a jet. He could feel the heat of the fire raging nearby as his made his skin tight. Climbing up the ladder he climbed into the cockpit and shut himself inside before Tristan could stop him. Throwing on the helmet he didn't pay any attention to Tristan's hitting the window as he yelled at him to get out. His response was to start the engine. Tristan was forced to climb down and watch as Kale pulled out and shot down the runway.

Starscream saw the jet circling in the sky, coming around to face him and Vortex. A single missile shot away from the F-22 and hit Vortex in the back knocking him away with an aggravated scream giving Starscream the chance he needed to try and get back on his feet. The pilot flew dangerously low and Starscream was able to see who it was. While the human saved his aft, Starscream cursed Kale's stupidity.

Vortex got up roaring in anger as his gazed fixated on the pilot that was currently circling back around for another go. Aiming his canon at the jet he fired. The pilot veered left, spinning expertly and kept coming. A hail of bullets rained down, plugging into Vortex's armor. The fighter passed over head, keeping high and out of range of his short range weapons. Vortex trained his arm on the jet, aiming carefully while being aware of Starscream's sluggish movement to his right as the mech tried get himself fully upright. He locked on despite the pilot's crafty maneuvers, but he didn't the chance to fire when another blow grazed his left leg, brining him down to one knee Another jet shot overhead.

"Tristan!" Kale exclaimed in surprise.

"There is no way in hell I'm letting you do this one your own, you piece of shit," Tristan replied, his southern drawl thick. "Let's take this fucker down!"

Kale felt himself grin behind his mask as he and Tristan flew side-by-side. "Alright!"

"Bank left," Tristan suggested. "I'll go right. Yeehaw!"

The jets broke away from each other in an offensive maneuver. Starscream kept his optics on the two fighters, curing the second stupid human that showed up. He turned his attention back to the current Decepticon leader and he got his feet, his left leg leaking energon profusely. Aiming his gunner arm, his shot off a couple of rounds, forcing him to duck for cover. The two fighters swooped in and shot at Vortex while he was incapacitated. Forced back to a knee, the mech took a wild swing at Tristan, but missed by mere feet.

"Shit!" Tristan cursed, panic in his voice. "That was _waaaaaay_ to fuckin' close."

"Get him in the water," Kale said.

Vortex was stumbling further and further back towards the edge of the base where there was a clear drop off into the water while his three enemies continued to push him back. There was a pause in the assault in which he took to aim at one of the fighter jets. A double barrel gun emerged from his armor plating and fired a single round. The targeting bullet tore through the fighter's right wing forcing it to spin out.

Kale was very aware of the huge amount of trouble he was in now. With no other choice but to eject he found himself slamming his hand against the button before he even really thought it through. As the chute deployed he looked down at the Decepticon that was trailing his decent with a gun and the cold water below.

Decisions, decisions.

Quickly detaching himself from the seat he slid off and free fell towards the water. Bracing himself for the icy sting, he was surprised to find himself coming to an abrupt halt in a large metal palm as metal, claw-like fingers encased around him. Looking up, he saw that Starscream had caught him, seemingly stuck between his true form and that of the fighter he disguised himself as.

Kale didn't get the chance to say thank you before Starscream was tossing him back into the air. Kale could hear the telltale sound of him transforming. Starscream flew under the flailing and screaming human, opened his cockpit and caught him, shutting it immediately. Kale was still screaming as he looked around his surroundings.

"Will you shut up?" Starscream hissed.

"You fucking asshole!" the pilot replied, his hoarse voice cracking.

"I just saved your pathetic life, so the least you can do is _shut_ that hole in your _face_!"

Kale did as he was told, but first grumbled out a petulant, "Bastard."

"Uh, guys!" Tristan said. "As much as I don't want to interrupt your lovers spat I could use some help over here!"

Starscream shot off towards the battle, spinning to avoid any shots from Vortex. If he was capable in this form, Starscream would have grinned. One thing that he knew he had over Vortex was speed and agility. Kale had his hands on the steering, but didn't try and take control. Starscream let him because it seemed to comfort the human and he didn't need him freaking out anymore. Tristan flew in the distance, looking to come around again. Starscream shot over Vortex's head in another barrage of bullets. Tristan came in flying straight at the Decepticon, bullets firing readily. Vortex dropped low and shot forward at the incoming jet. Tristan couldn't pull up fast enough. Leaping up, Vortex grabbed one of wings throwing Tristan into a spin.

Kale watched in horror. "TRISTAN!"

Vortex raised his gun under the jet and fired a single shot that ripped through the fighter's cockpit, leaving it in pieces. The last thing Kale heard before static was Tristan's gut wrenching scream, a scream that he was sure he would never be able to erase from his mind. Kale's breaths were ragged as he watched the pieces of Tristan's fighter hit the ground in fire and smoke. Vortex stood over the wreckage and smiled up at them. Kale was vaguely aware of Starscream angry growl before the fighter about-faced and shot away from the battle.

"No! No!" Kale shouted. "Go back!"

"You're friend is dead," Starscream stated coldly. "With you in here I cannot fight to my full capability. The sheer force would kill you."

"Then let me out," he cried frantically, struggling in his seat. "I'll get another jet. We'll take him on together!"

"No," Starscream replied.

"I can't leave Tristan behind!"

Starscream was angry with the human's irrationality. "He's dead!"

"No! Go back!" he screamed, tears falling from his eyes. "Go back! Go back!"

Frantically punching and kicking within Starscream's cockpit, Kale didn't stop until he was an exhausted, limp heap, cussing vulgarly through breath choking sobs. Starscream listened as the man mourned for his fallen friend, but didn't offer any comforting words. He wouldn't even know where to begin anyways. He merely remained silent and waited until he passed out from exhaustion. He didn't think that Vortex would follow him. The Decepticon probably had his processor on other matters that needed to be attended to.

This was not over.

Vortex would undoubtedly hunt him down to the ends of the Earth. He didn't want to have a human to worry about so he decided that he would take him to the safest place he could. He was pretty sure that the Autobots hadn't left Tranquility, so he'd start there.

* * *

Sam shot up from his pillow, a choked yell dying at his lips. Scanning the room with wide and fearful eyes the fact that he was safe in his room with only the sound of his heavy breathing didn't seem to calm him down one bit. Heart pounding in his chest, lungs tight and burning with his clothes drenched with sweat that was cooling rapidly, making him shiver. Moisture ran down his cheeks and he really couldn't tell if it was more sweat or tears, but when he noted the pin-prickling sensation behind his eyes he was pretty sure he was crying.

He grumbled a curse at his own weakness and rubbed furiously at his eyes as he tried to get himself to calm down. The nightmares were becoming a regular thing but were something he didn't want anyone else to know about, especially Mikaela or Bumblebee. They always started the same and no matter what he did to change the outcome it always ended the same.

In blood and darkness.

Megatron would stare down at his, his red eyes filled with hatred and greed. He would here Optimus begging him to put the Cube in his chest, willing to sacrifice himself to destroy the All Spark and keep Megatron from getting it. What happened next was the one thing Sam never tried to change. Running at Megatron, risking his life, much to Optimus's dismay, he would stand under Megatron and push the Cube into his chest, joining it with the Decepticon's spark and killing him. Megatron would choke and convulse and drop down to the concrete. Together, Sam and Optimus would watch the red light of his optics die. But before Optimus could ever thank him like he did in real life, darkness fell over Mission City, swallowing Optimus whole and leaving Sam all alone in silence.

The Autobots, Mikaela, Will, Epps, and all the soldiers would also vanish. The city would begin to crumble and decay into ruins and then he would run. He would run in circles, calling for anyone; his parents, Mikaela, Bumblebee, anyone who cared, but no one would answer. But that doesn't mean he never found them.

Scraps of metal and leaching fluids you couldn't name.

Pools of blood under mutilated, broken corpses with faces he loved.

Everyone he cared for lying dead before his very eyes.

A soft white glow would get his attention and then he'd stare at his hands. Ridges would rise on the skin of his palms that resembled the same markings on the Cube. The lines would spread, becoming more elaborate as they traveled around to the back of his hands and crawl up his arms, leaving alien patterned embroidered in his skin until he was completely covered.

He would cry.

He would beg.

He would try to make himself believe that this wasn't happening, but in the pit of his stomach he knew that Earth had fallen.

Then a thunderous set of footsteps would come up to him from behind and he would know who it was without looking at them. A shadow would loom over him, even when the word was dark, but he would never turn around a face it, knowing that he would end up staring into a pair of familiar red optics filled with the sadistic pleasure at the carnage left in its wake. Either way, the voice would always say the same thing that made Sam's skin crawl and his heart drop.

" _My…All Spark…"_

He shuddered. He really didn't like think about it. But as one may well know, not _wanting_ to think about something and _actually_ thinking about it are two completely different things. He looked over at the dream catcher handing on the wall. It was old and tattered. He had made it in the fourth grade while doing a unit on the history of Native American culture, but as he grew older he had no need for it and put it in a box that went into the attic. The dreams started soon after the All Spark's destruction, around the same time his hands started hurting, and he found himself rummaging through the old box to drag the thing back out. He was just so desperate to be rid of the dreams he hung it back up.

Obviously, the batteries had died.

Filled with anger and frustration, Sam kicked back the covers and walked briskly towards the wall it was anchored to. Tearing it down. he savagely torn it apart. Yarn and feathers littered his bedroom floor. His mother would be disappointed. She loved to save all of his grade school projects as mementos.

His hands suddenly felt like they were on fire, forcing him to drop the remnants of his childhood creation.

This was a regular thing as well. It happened after every dream now. He didn't like to compare it, but they burned just like when he pushed the All Spark into Megatron's chest. The Cube became molten metal in his hands and though the nerves in his hands sent signals to his brain to let go of the damned thing, he didn't. He couldn't let go until it was finished. The adrenaline kept pumping and even after it disintegrated he couldn't focus on anything, but the relief of it all being over.

The burning went away as soon as Megatron was dead. He remembered eventually looking down at his hands, expecting to see permanently ruined flesh only to see healthy, but dirty skin. He just pushed it aside as nothing until the following week when he was assaulted with his first nightmare and his hands began to ache on and off.

Sam rushed from his room and down the hall to the bathroom and ran a cold tap. The water only provided a temporary relief from the burning, but eventually, as always, water would begin to steam as soon as it touched his hands. Sam bit back a cry of pain, allowing it to pass through his teeth through a loud hiss.

Falling to his knees before the sink, he kept his hands under the water even though it hardly helped as his head dropped to the cool ceramic surface of the bathroom counter. Gritting his teeth he tried to be quiet. He wasn't worried about waking his parents. His father's snoring was deafening and his mother was so used to it that she could sleep through anything. It was Bumblebee that he was concerned about. The Autobot always had his scanners going, monitoring the house.

Tears sprung to Sam's eyes as the pain grew. Damn, it never burned like this before. His hands trembled under the water, ridges rising on the palms of his hands in a _very_ familiar alien design. Sam pulled one hand from the water and reached back to grab a dry wash cloth handing from the rack across from the sink. Shoving it into his mouth he bit down to prevent himself from screaming.

Everyone had enough problems as it was and he was not going to be the cause of another.

* * *

John Keller was, once again, sitting at his desk, fingers laced under his chin staring at Simmon's in silence. Banachek sat in one of the many chairs of the office, head in his hands as the three men seemed to really take it what had just been reported. The Marianna Trench base had been wiped out, no survivors and they knew pretty damn well who was responsible for it. Before communications were cut there were loud explosions and familiar sounds as loud as sonic booms, just like at the base n Qatar. The man on the line managed to tell them what he saw before the line went dead.

Two Decepticons.

Unlike the Autobots, the government was unable to keep tabs on the Decepticons. They only knew how many where there due to the Autobots information on them. The helicopter was designated as Vortex and he was the current leader of the Decepticons. The F22, who was already known as Starscream, had also been there, but there was something strange in the man's voice as he tried to report what he saw. They apparently weren't working together. Instead, they were fighting each other. Keller could only assume that it was for control, given that Starscream was Megatron's second in command and Vortex had come in a just took over. He supposed that there would be a lot of bad blood between them, so to speak.

"What do you make of that, Simmons?" Keller asked. "Starscream and Vortex were fighting each other, seemingly to kill."

"Power struggle," the agent responded easily enough. "NBE-A1 said that NBE-D2 was supposed to take up the leadership position, but NBE-D6 did instead."

Keller lowered his hands and stared at Simmons incredulously. "Do you really have all those acronyms memorized?

"With all do respect, sir," Simmons shot back, "I don't think that this is the current topic we should be discussing."

Keller's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press the issue given that Simmons was right. "We know why Vortex is there," he said. "Megatron's remains were not crushed by the pressure of the ocean like we had assumed."

"But Megatron is dead," Banachek said. "What could they possibly want with him?"

"Maybe there's something down there with him that they need," Simmons suggested. "As far as we know nothing was pulled from his body other then the fragment of the Cube in his chest."

"We need to get on the line with Optimus," Banachek stated.

"He's been alerted," Keller said. "But maybe he'll know what they're looking for." Rubbing a hand wearily over his face, he sighed. "This war is far from over…"

* * *

A/N: Action scenes? Not the easiest thing for me to write. I try to imagine it like a movie and hope that is comes across that way. Sorry for any grammatical errors and that this took so long to come out. In a word: work. Work, work, work. It's no fun being an adult sometimes. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray


	14. Great Power with No Responsibility

13\. Great Power with No Responsibility

If you would have told Starscream that he would eventually be in the position he was in now he probably would've laughed at your apparent insanity before ending your pathetic existence.

Starscream performed is hourly scan of his human passenger if only to see if the organic creature was still alive. He didn't need a corpse stinking up his insides. Kale was still fast asleep, exhausted from the previous night. The man kicked, screamed, and offered colorful human curses over and over again. He begged for Starscream to take him back to the base. The other human must have really meant something to him. When it became clear that Kale was not thinking rationally and wasn't going to shut up anytime soon, Starscream took to ignoring him. Eventually, Kale exhausted himself to unconsciousness.

But Kale's pleas and cries were still echoing in his processor. His desperation for revenge still hung in the air. He would not be pleased when he woke up. For the first time since his arrival on this mediocre planet, Starscream felt what he could only determine as inkling to sympathy for the human. He mentally berated himself for even allowing himself to think it. He could not wait to leave the fleshling with the Autobots. Then he wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.

But the fact that Starscream even acknowledged that he was taking Kale to the Autobots for his protection as what he assumed to be the only survivor from the base attack proved what Starscream dreaded the most.

"Damn," he hissed softly.

Flying over the ocean, Starscream shifted his attention towards the water below. It would be so easy. Just flip upside down, open the cockpit, and the human would be no more. So far from shore there would be no chance of survival. He'd either drown or something bigger with a lot more teeth would just happen along to put him out of his misery. He looked up information on shark attacks on humans. There weren't as many as he would've have thought given the sheer terror humans felt in reference to the animal. He also noted a few clips from a film based on a novel about a massive great white shark terrorizing beach goers in the 1970s. It looked _intriguing_.

Humans were so helpless outside of their element and powerless to defend themselves.

Starscream focused back on his earlier contemplation of dumping Kale into the ocean. It was tempting, but even as the labeled coward of his faction even he had a sense of honor, if one could call it that. Killing a defenseless creature used to be fun, with all the ferociousness and deadly power, not unlike the sharks in the ocean below him. But for some reason the more he thought about the more the idea of Kale treading helplessly in the water, doomed to die, made him uneasy.

Wow. He really had gone soft, hadn't he?

It was still going to be a while before they reached Nevada. According to all his scanners, the Autobots were indeed located in Tranquility. All he had to do was find Optimus Prime, do a fly by, drop the human off, and leave. None of the Autobots would ever make the first move to attack him, well, maybe Ironhide, but he was a shoot first asked questions later type. But if Prime could reel him in long enough to take note that Starscream was carrying a human then they would not attack. After all, Prime swore that his faction would never harm humans.

As soon as he knew Kale was in the right hands, he'd go back to the base and take care of Vortex himself. That mech had always rubbed him the wrong way, always thinking that every battle was a personal test of one's strength and will. Hell, Starscream didn't even understand what Vortex wanted with Megatron's body. As far as he knew, Vortex was none too fond of their prestigious leader. Vortex would rather kill Optimus Prime himself rather then let Megatron do it, if only for the 'honor' and 'prestige' that would accompany it. Vortex craved power and everyone knew, including Megatron, that he'd take down anyone that got in his way of that.

Well, these were all issues he was going to have to take up with Vortex when he got back from taking Kale to the Autobots.

"Damn," he cursed again.

He was wasting time with this human, but getting Kale to the Autobots was a necessary evil. Starscream sped up, careful not to wake the human, not wanting to deal with another dramatic episode. He needed Kale to tell his superiors what was happening, what Vortex was there for because if he failed then the Autobots would have to take it up. Megatron would not leave that trench.

* * *

Peyton rolled over, awakened by the frantic buzzing of her cell-phone on the end table. Sitting up quickly she nearly fell off the mattress in her attempt to reach it before the call ended. She looked down at the caller ID, but there was no name or number, just 'incoming call.'

"Uh, hello?"

"Peyton."

"Optimus?" She pulled her phone away from her ear, looking at her caller ID again. "How did you—?"

"No time to explain," he said urgently. "The Mariana Islands base was attacked last night. We need to go."

That woke her up. She knew that the base out in the Pacific that guarded the final resting place of Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. She pretty much knew the whole story.

"The Decepticons?" she found herself asking.

"Yes. Starscream and Vortex."

"Okay," she said. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Please hurry."

Peyton flipped the phone shut and ran to her bag. Grabbing some clothes she headed for the bathroom. She could hear Maggie moving around in her room as well, talking to someone on the phone. From the tone of her voice, it seemed that Sunstreaker was filling her in as well. She changed into a pair of jeans and a black cotton tank top. Brushing her teeth she pulled her hair into a ponytail and deemed herself ready to go. She heading back into the living room she looked to the coffee table where he standard issue 9mm sat next to her badge. Idly, she wondered if she should bring either one. She always carried them, yeah, but was it a necessary thing now? It wasn't like a 9mm would do much to a tower metal alien.

Whatever. It would make her feel better.

Holstering her gun on her hip as always, she decided to leave the badge behind and pocketed her cell phone. Maggie appeared over by the door, waiting. They headed down the stairs and out of the building. They tried to remain inconspicuous as they rounded the complex to the alley where Optimus and Sunstreaker were waiting. Maggie headed for the yellow Lamborghini. The driver side door popped open automatically and she climbed inside. The big rig followed suit and Peyton took that as enough invitation to climb inside.

This was the reality of her life now. This is what she signed up for, though she had been hoping to be broken in a little before dealing with something so serious. Oh well.

Sunny pulled out on the main street first. Optimus followed after him. He was silent. Not even the radio was playing. The air inside the cab was tense. Hell, the leather seats she sat on were tense.

Peyton could only think of one reason why the Decepticons would want to attack the base that guarded over their dead buddies. She had only been apart of this gig for a little more then twenty-four hours, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever they wanted was in that trench. She patiently waited for Optimus to tell her what was going on, but he was silent still.

"So what are we going to do?" she finally asked.

"You will stay and Tranquility where it is safe. We have permission from the President to take a carrier place to the trench with military back up."

"What?" Peyton asked. "I have to stay here? I thought we were supposed to stick together."

"This would be a circumstance in which we would not. It's too dangerous. Hound and Sideswipe will be staying behind to protect you and the other while the rest of us are away. We have to stop Vortex and Starscream from getting into the trench."

Peyton frowned thoughtfully as she leaned back in the seat. "So why are Starscream and Vortex working together? I thought they hated each other."

"They do. Starscream has been essentially AWOL from the Decepticons since Mission City. I am not entirely sure of what drove them to work with each other."

"What exactly happened?" Peyton asked.

"Vortex jammed the base's radars at 0300 hours. The watch was light and by the time the radars had been corrected Vortex had already landed. We received a distress signal than nothing. Communications and surveillance have both been brought down. As far as we know…there were no survivors."

"What about Starscream? Where was he?"

"Starscream was already on the base, posing as one of the base's fighters. No one knew that he was there."

Peyton felt a churning in her gut. All those people dead? It hardly seemed like something she could fathom and she dealt in homicide. Slouching in her seat, she wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath.

Optimus was very aware of this subconscious move. "Peyton?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

Peyton pursed her lips tighter. She really couldn't answer that without either lying or seeming like a complete coward. So she settled with "I'm going to have to be."

Optimus sighed through the vents, the air blowing her hair slightly. "I was hoping to ease you into this."

"Not gonna lie, I kind of did too," she said, making an effort to smile.

Her feelings of apprehension and fear were understandable. Though she was exposed to death and a cruelty of mankind on a regular basis, facing a violent attack by something that wasn't human pulled her out of her element. Humans were unpredictable. One could never truly tell what a person was capable of and she supposed the same went with Decepticons. She understood that they were the bad guys and that they would destroy anything that got in their way, but she had yet to meet one in person. She just didn't know what to truly expect from them.

"I promised that I would protect you, Peyton," Optimus said, "and I refuse to break that promise."

"Then why are you leaving me behind?" she asked. "Shouldn't I really stick with you?" She didn't want to admit out loud that she already felt safest with him.

"I wouldn't be able to fight to my fullest ability if I had you to worry about. You will be safe with Hound and Sideswipe. I trust them to look after all of you."

"Well, I'm more worried about you," she said. "You're going over there while I'm stuck here twiddling my thumbs. I know I'd be in the way if I went with you. But, believe it or not and even though I haven't known you for very long, but I'm already worried something bad is going to happen to you. So can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Call me? Let me know what going on? Or, at least what you can. I just want to know if you're alright."

Optimus was speechless for a moment. It was true, he hadn't known Peyton for long and while his innate loyalty as her guardian was expected, hers had developed rather quickly for a human. Nonetheless, her fond feeling for him warmed him.

"If you would like for me to check in with you, I will," he finally said.

She snorted. "Okay, you're making it sound like I'm your mother." She laughed softly. "Check in or you're grounded."

Optimus allowed himself a laugh as well. "Yes, ma'am."

She turned her nose distastefully. "That makes me sound old." Reaching forward, she brushed her hand against the dashboard. Immediately, warmth flooded her palm and it moved, ever so slightly, a huge indication that Optimus was, indeed, a living thing. "I feel like I'm saying to goodbye to a solder going off to fight a war."

"We are fighting a war."

"…Oh, yeah…"

The two were silent. Peyton felt a little awkward for saying such emotional things a day into their new partnership, but the words just came out. Optimus didn't seem bothered by it at all, but it was still odd. Most of her relationships ended either because of work schedules or lack of communication, mostly on her part, and here she was sprouting off how much she was concerned for his wellbeing. She couldn't go with him. Even though she wanted to, she couldn't argue with him there. The best thing for her to do would be to stay behind and stay with Sides and Hound. She'd do it for Optimus, so he wouldn't have to worry. Huffing, she slouched in her seat, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn't want to be babysat.

"When are you leaving?"

"As soon as possible."

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "Alright," she said. "I don't think I need to tell you to be careful, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Be careful, please."

Her concern really did touch him. "I will."

"And call me."

"I will."

"Fine," she said, sternly. Sitting up she leaned forward. "I can at least see you off, right?"

A soft, affirmative hum came through the speakers. "Yes you can."

She nodded appreciatively. "Okay."

* * *

Sam was livid. Not only was his toughing it out to go to school this gloomy morning in Tranquility, but Bee had just told him of the recent events at the Mariana Trench. While he was in school suffering through algebra and Western Civlization, Bumblebee and the other Autobots were going to try to prevent Vortex from retrieving whatever he was after in the abyss with Megatron.

His mind wracked with the horrible nightmare that had been plaguing him. What if what Vortex was after was Megatron? What if there was a way to—No.

His hands never stopped burning and in result he never went back to sleep. He spent more of his night with his hands in a sink full of ice water, too afraid to fall back asleep if only to be tormented by more nightmares.

What is the dream was a premonition? What if Megatron could really come back? What if the world en—NO!

He had to stop thinking about things like that. Megatron was dead. There was no way they could bring him back.

He had said his farewells to Bumblebee before leaving for school on his bike. He called Mikaela to let her know the situation. She had gotten upset that she would be able to see Bumblebee before he left so Bumblebee tapped into the wireless signal of his phone and was able to talk to Mikaela for a minute. Bee was the happy, fun-loving mech, but when it came down to serious situations he refrained from using the radio he had grown to adapt in using to communicate, using his own voice instead.

Mikaela ended up getting choked up, which never sat well with the youngest Autobot so Bee spent most of the conversation reassuring Mikaela that he would be safe and he would come back. Mikaela then chastised herself for acting like a wimp. Sam could hear the smile in Bee's voice as he told the teen how much her concern meant to him. Bumblebee treated Mikaela like a big brother would treat his little sister. They easily slipped into the roles not long after Mission City. Sam thought back on the first time Bumblebee had truly seen Mikaela cry, which was a rarity to begin with. The Autobot had panicked. His desperate and seemingly futile attempts to make Mikaela calm down was what eventually sunk in and made her laugh.

Sam had listened to their conversation with a mixture of anger and worry. He was angry that he had to go to school and couldn't be with Bee and he was worried that something might happen to him and the other Autobots there. Something Megatron related. Though he couldn't see how Megatron could ever come back to life. Without the All Spark there was no way to bring him back. At least that's what he hoped. He couldn't speak for the Decepticons and their plans with the remains of their cruel leader. Everyone just knew that whatever their plans were they weren't good.

Bee finally ended the call with Mikaela and looked down at Sam. _"Time to say goodbye…"_

"Yeah," Sam said, "I know. Be careful and don't get yourself killed."

Bee waved a massive hand dismissively. _"Why should I worry? ...Sooner or later! I'll be back."_

Sam smiled as he shuffled his feet on the concrete floor of the garage. "Sure thing, Arnold. Call me as soon as you know everything's okay."

Bumblebee leaned forward and held out one large fist. Sam grinned and despite the pain in his hand he made a fist and pressed it against his guardian's.

Bee's vibrant blue optics held Sam's hazel eyes solidly. "As soon as I come back we're going to talk about why you haven't been sleeping lately.

Sam had to fight his jaw muscles from going slack as his hand dropped limply back to his side. Well…that was unexpected. "How did you know?"

Bee's expression was mildly insulted. "I'm your guardian. You don't think I monitor your heart rate, your respiratory functions, and your stages of sleep? Really, Sam?"

The teen bowed his head sheepishly. "Bee—"

"The real question should be why you didn't tell anyone," the mech continued. "You could have at least told Ratchet."

Sam's eyes closed tiredly. "I'm sorry."

Bee huffed, the whirling sound of air being pushed rapidly through vents. Sam felt warm metal under his chin. Bee had gently used his finger to lift Sam's face. It was amazing the amount of control that the Autobots had developed when handling their much smaller and delicate human friends.

"We'll talk about it when I get back, right?" Bee asked.

Sam nodded. He lifted his hand to Bee's finger, holding it. "Yeah, we'll talk about it."

Bee leaned back and Sam stepped a few steps away. Bumblebee's form seemed to fold in on itself as he transformed into his vehicle form. Engine roaring, Bee made his way out of the garage and down the driveway, 'hasta la vista, baby' resounding from his speakers as he drove out into the street. Sam followed him out and watched him drive away until he rounded a corner and he couldn't see him anymore.

* * *

Vortex released Scorponok from his back, allowing the mech to skitter around on the broken and charred concrete. For the duration of the battle with Starscream Vortex had decidedly kept Scorponok attached even though it was obvious that the scorpion mech wanted to get in on the action. Vortex, however, couldn't risk Scorponok getting damaged. He had another purpose for it. Vortex turned his back to the other Decepticon as he scanned the base in the morning light.

All the planes had been destroyed which was of no consequence. The ships in the marina were either destroyed and engulfed in flames or were too far damaged to be taken out to sea. It would put a dampener in his plan to get out to the trench, but it would look like they were going to have to fly out there and come up with a plan B. Soundwave would be arriving soon. With the other Decepticons grounded they wouldn't be able to make it to the retrieval.

The Autobots, however…

There was no doubt in Vortex's processor that the Autobots had already been alerted to what had happened here. Starscream was a factor he hadn't anticipated and it put a delay in the time he had estimated to have neutralized the humans and all their communications systems. Not to mention that Starscream had escaped with a very much alive human in his cockpit to play witness. If this was going to happen they would have to hurry or face the Autobots and more humans equipped with their sable rounds.

Sure enough, his scanners alerted him to an approaching aircraft. The incoming signal was coming from Soundwave. An F-117 Nighthawk shot overhead, transforming in the air and dropping down, rather gracefully on his feet. The concrete buckled under his weight and Soundwave stood to his full height, his eyes roving over the damaged base, passing idly by the dozens of bodies that scattered the ground like fallen leaves.

"This was hardly discreet," he said to Vortex.

Vortex chortled darkly. "No, but it was a lot of fun."

"And Starscream?"

"Escaped."

"I see. How very much like him." Soundwave mused, his voice gravely as he addressed his current leader. "But very unlike you."

Vortex's red optic narrowed. "Meaning?"

"You let someone escape," Soundwave said. "This would be a first, would it not?"

The bulkier mech growled. "A momentary lapse, one that will be soon remedied." Stalking forward, Vortex stared across the base towards the ocean in which Megatron lay dormant. "Starscream is not so eager to see Megatron again. He'll do whatever he can to keep us from retrieving him."

"Understandable," Soundwave said casually. "Lord Megatron always took…a _delight_ in making Starscream's existence miserable."

"Starscream is weak and pathetic," Vortex snarled. "He was not worthy of being Megatron's second."

Soundwave titled his head to the side, the gesture looking rather human for an entity that strived for their destruction. "And you are?"

Vortex was silent. His lust for power was not a secret. The fact that this retrieval mission was Vortex's idea was a little more than shocking to the rest of them. Vortex's ambitions are what kept him from being Megatron's second. While Vortex was probably more qualified to lead over Starscream, Starscream was terrified of Megatron and the Decpeticon leader was able to control him through fear. Vortex was a wild card.

Gesturing for Scorponok to come to him, Vortex let the mech once against latch onto his back before transforming into a copter and taking off towards the trench. Soundwave followed immediately after. As they sped towards the coordinates, Vortex wasn't quite sure what Soundwave had in mind, but the mech was adamant about Scoponok coming along. The scorpion Deception was feeling uneasy as it twitched and rustled in its limited space, irritating Vortex.

"So how is this going to work?" Vortex asked.

"There is only one sure way," Soundwave answered. "Scorponok is going swimming."

And Scorponok was not happy to hear that, twittering and screeching as he back away slightly.

"That's it?" Vortex scoffed. "You're going to drop him in the water and let him swim around until he finds Megatron? That's your genius plan?"

"Scorponok's armor is able to tolerate an abundance of Earth elements more readily then ours, not to mention I have reinforced it during its repairs. It was already able to move readily through the desert without getting sand into its internal workings. Its armor should withstand four hours of the extreme cold and pressure in the trench, which would be enough time for it to retrieve Lord Megatron."

Scorponok's nervous ticking begged Vortex to ask another question. "There seems to be a lot of speculation with this plan."

"You told me to find a way to get Lord Megatron out of the trench and this is how we will do it. If you do not trust Scorponok to handle it then _you_ go down there and get him."

Vortex wanted to shoot Soundwave out of the sky. As leader of Decpeticons he would not tolerate insolence, but he refrained. Soundwave was still an essential part of their faction and he believed that Megatron would be less then pleased to find out he was killed. Vortex had always questioned why Soundwave never tried to take the leadership position from him and it made him paranoid as to what the mech's true intentions may be. But Soundwave never made an aggressive move one him, or anyone for that matter. He chose to stand back and simply observe. His loyalties would forever lay with Megatron and if things played out the way Vortex intended, Soundwave would have to be taken care of.

* * *

Sam cringed as he massaged his hands. Wearing long sleeves, he pulled them over his palms in order to hide the bright red tint to his skin. School had been a total disaster today. Not only was he overly exhausted from lack of sleep and the constant burning throb in his hands, but Trent DeMarco had decided that today would be a wonderful day to make his life even more miserable. The bastard hadn't left him alone all day, flinging rubber-bands and snidely laughing at him with his friend about God knows what. Sam found himself shaking with rage at one point and wanted nothing but one opportunity to beat the shit out of the jackass.

"Ignore him," Mikaela said soothingly as she rubbed his back.

It was lunch and Mikaela now sat with Sam and Miles. A couple of her friends also decided to join them, much to Miles' pleasure. Sam tried to focus on that sensation over everything else around him; Mikaela next to him, touching him. It was always a good distraction. The day was half over, but that final bell still seemed so far away.

Mikaela too had noticed how tense Sam was and how he held his sleeves over his hands. She caught a glimpse or two of vibrant red skin like he put his hands on a hot stove. She tried to ask him about it, but he was very evasive with his bright smiles and affection, trying to make he think that nothing was wrong. But she knew him better than that. She didn't stop rubbing his back when Trent sent a wad of paper at the back of Sam's head. She had to stop, however, when Sam leapt up from his seat in fury, knocking his chair back with a loud bang against the floor.

"Sam!" she cried in alarm.

If this sound of his chair hitting the ground didn't get their peers attention then that did.

Sam's hands shook as he stalked towards the still snicker jock. He didn't know what came over him as he smacked the other boy's lunch tray, sending it skittering across the floor in a mess of processed mash potatoes and dried roast beef. Planting his hands on the table, he leaned in real close to Trent's face. The jock had stopped his insistent giggle the moment his tray disappeared from in front of him, looking rather surprised.

"Ten years," Sam seethed. "I've put up with shit from you for ten fucking years and I'm done. Face it, Trent. You lost your girl to a _nerd_ , a _loser_. Man, you really must've fucked up bad if it came to this, huh? _Get over it_. Leave me, Mikaela and Miles alone or I _swear to God_ ," he hissed, the burning sensation in his hands grew and fueled him even more, "you will fucking regret it."

Trent's momentary surprise wore off as he rose to the challenge, towering over Sam and forcing the smaller boy back with his sheer size. "What are you going about it Witkicky?"

The pupils of Sam's eyes that had been small do to the harsh illumination of the lights expanded to cover the whites of his eyes entirely until Trent was staring in black voids of nothing. "It's Witwicky."

Sam's open palms shot out from his sides, striking Trent in the center of his chest. The jock was sent hurtling back through the air, suspended off the ground. He hit the ground, rolling and sliding across the floor until coming to a jarring halt against the wall. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

The entire atrium was silent.

Except for Sam.

Sam was chuckling darkly in the silence of his peers until it rose into full blown laughter that hardly even sounded like him.

Mikaela stood in shuddering fear as she watched her black eyed boyfriend laugh and jab an invisible for in sick delight, like he was a deranged child. She gulped and fought to suppress that fears. Sam faced the rest of his classmates, still grinning like a fool. His eyes roved over them, widening every time a student took a fearful step back or whispered nervously to someone beside him.

But when his eyes landed on Mikaela his face plummeted. His chest nearly burst when he took a step towards her and she took one back, her blue eyes wide, her body shaking, her breath coming out in harsh heaves.

 _Mikaela…_

The black over his eyes receded back to normal. The burning in his hands seemed to have lessened, like he released a large part of it into Trent when he hit him.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest.

Looking down at the palms of his hands, the marking that had once been on the Cube seemed to ripple and dance on the skin of his palms. A cold reality hit him and it was a piercing feeling him that made him stagger back from his classmates. Turning on his heel he ran from the atrium and through the doors of the school.

Mikaela was only motionless until the distinct sound of doors being slammed open echoed in the silence of the room.

" _SAM!"_

* * *

A/N: The title is a play on the "with great power comes great responsibility" quote. Though Sam has the power, but clearly doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do with it yet. As for the reference to _Jaws_ , it was on TV when I was reworking this and I threw it in there. That movie **terrified** me as a kid. I was convinced there was a giant, man-eating shark in my swimming pool even though it was only four feet deep and I could see the bottom. Now, Shark Week is one of my favorite parts of the summer! All grammar mistakes are my own and I apologize for them. Thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray


	15. Extreme Behavior

14\. Extreme Behavior

Peyton stood by an anxious looking Maggie as they watched the Autobots board the large carrier plane in their vehicle forms. They were flying to the base where an aircraft carrier would be waiting for them. From there they'd go to the trench, hopefully in time to stop Vortex from getting whatever he wanted out of the trench, which was more than likely Megatron's body since that seemed to be the only thing of value down there.

Hound stood in his true form, staring angrily as his comrades left. He had practically begged Optimus to let him tag along, but leaving their contacts undefended wasn't an option. Sideswipe had also been rather angry with the arrangement, but one look from his twin made him shut up.

"Watch Maggie," he had said. "She's an emotional female and will likely give you the most trouble."

Maggie had been too worried to really put up much of a protest with that comment so all she had done was swatted his foot, the only thing she could reach, half-heartedly and gnawed on her bottom lip.

He wouldn't say it, but Sunstreaker kind of wished that he was staying behind and Sides was going, if only to stay with Maggie. Will, Epps, Maggie, Glen, Jason, and Peyton all stuck around until the plane disappeared in the distance. Looking over at Maggie, Peyton couldn't help but feel bad for the girl. It was obvious that her and Sunny were close, but Peyton wasn't good with comforting. Hesitantly, she placed a hand on her shoulder, patting it awkwardly. Sharing eye contact, Peyton tried to smile as reassuringly as possible. Either Maggie bought it or she just wanted Peyton to stop as she smiled gratefully back.

"Alright, Epps," Will started, "we better get on the line with Keller."

The two soldiers left.

Jason looked down at his watch and sighed. Rubbing his eyes wearily he announced that he was working a double shift. Both Maggie and Glen glared at the doctor which made Peyton think that this was a routine thing.

"You're killing yourself, man," Glen stated.

"Yeah," Sides put in rather seriously, "I may not be a medic, but even I can see the signs of exhaustion all over your face."

Jason tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll be fine. I already scheduled my vacation." He looked over at Peyton. "You've been an inspiration to me."

Peyton nodded with a slight shug. "Glad to help out a fellow workaholic. After all, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. "

Jason looked up at the two mechs. "Would either of you mind giving me a ride?"

Hound and Sideswipe looked at each other.

"So, what, are we like a chauffer service on this planet?" Hound asked.

"Pretty much," Sides said. "Face you for it?"

"Yer on."

Peyton snorted when the two went at a classic 'rock, paper, scissors' match, which Sides won with a victorious 'whoo!' Hound sighed and transformed, the passenger side door popped open as a cowboy hologram appeared in the driver seat and stuck itself out the window to glare at Sideswipe.

"The whiny sergeant is busy anyways," he said. "Let's get goin' Doc."

"Thanks a lot, Hound," Jason said sincerely.

The blond shrugged, vibrant blue eyes kind. "No biggie."

"Hey, Hound," Sideswipe began, "when do I get a hologram?"

Hound grinned up at the younger mech. "You don't. I'm cookin' up somethin' a lot fancier for all y'all. Later!" With that the jeep sped away.

Sides looked excited. "I wonder what it is."

"You'll just have to wait until Robot Christmas," Glen provided as they moved to leave the airfield.

"Robot Christmas?" Sides frowned. "We don't have a 'Robot Christmas.'"

"We know," Maggie laughed softly, still a little down about Sunstreaker's departure. "He's kidding."

"So what do we do now?" Peyton asked.

Sideswipe lowered his gaze to the newest addition to the group. "We wait."

Peyton crossed her arms. "I hate waiting."

"You and me both," Maggie huffed. "I wish there was something we could do."

"We just have to trust Optimus and the others to stop whatever Vortex has planned," Sides stated.

Glen looked up at his partner. "How much is it killing you to be here instead of with them?"

"Only a lot," Sides admitted. "But Optimus was right. We can't leave you here without protection and now I should get you to a secure location."

"Why just us three?" Peyton asked. "How come Will, Bobby, and Jason get to go wherever they want?"

"Because you're females," Sideswipe provided helpfully, ignorant. "Females are the weaker of you species and need to be protected."

Peyton's mouth dropped in aghast and Maggie bit out angrily "Oh, you _so_ did not just say that."

"I'm not a chick!" Glen protested.

Sideswipe looked far too innocent for a century upon centuries old alien robot. "I'm only telling you what Glen told me."

Maggie and Peyton whirled on the large hacker, who seemed to have just seen his life flash before his eyes. Glen took off like a shot, running a lot faster then any of them could have expected.

"GLEN!" Maggie cried after him. "I'm going to kill you!"

"No, Maggie, no!" he cried desperately, releasing an unnaturally high pitched shriek when he saw Maggie coming after him. "Sideswipe, how could you?"

Peyton vouched to not chase him since she really didn't want to run in her heeled boots, but she was tempted to scare him with her gun no matter how many laws it broke. She laughed when Maggie caught him and proceeded to hit him repeatedly with her open palms while he tried to fend off her attacks.

"Get 'em Maggie!" Sides called.

Peyton laughed and looked up at Glen's guardian. "That was a very un-guardian like thing to do."

"Eh," Sides said with a shrug, "I was already getting bored without my bro here and Maggie needed the distraction."

Peyton smiled at his genuine concern. "That was sweet of you, but," she looked back towards the two computer wizzes, one of which was now on the ground taking on an onslaught of verbal abuses and more slaps, "I think you're going to have to find yourself a new contact."

"Oh, well," Sideswipe laughed good-naturedly. "I was getting sick of him anyways."

Maggie returned shortly, panting and leaving Glen on the ground cursing Sides and 'crazy chicks from the land down under.' Maggie looked rather satisfied with the distraction and acting immature which was something she hard got to do since she started working with the Secretary of Defense.

"Did you kill him?" Peyton asked.

"No," Maggie sighed. "He's like a cockroach."

"Damn," Sides said teasingly. "I'll just have to try harder next time."

"Shuddap you backstabbing trash can!" Glen called as rolled on the ground, nursing his injuries.

They made their way over to where Glen lay on the ground. Maggie and Peyton helped him to his feet out of pity. Leaving the base they all piled into Sides and decided to head to Will's secluded home for some R&R. It was all smiled, laughter, and animated chatting as they lounged in the sun drinking Sarah's ice tea as Annabelle entertained them with her baby talk. It was amazing she didn't stare at Sideswipe the whole time, but the infant was already used to seeing huge mechs around so it wasn't anything new to her. Everything was fine until Sides went completely still. Warning bells went off it his head as an F-22 shot over head.

Sarah immediately grabbed her daughter, startling her into a fearful cry. Sideswipe leapt to his feet and stood in front of the humans and called Hound. "Sideswipe to Hound."

"Hound 'ere," came the response over the comlink. "What's happin'?"

"Starscream."

"…Damn, that didn't take long."

"So you want to get over here now?"

"Already on my way."

The jet landed smoothly before them, but he made not move to transform or attack. Starscream had passed the plane carrying a majority of the Autobots towards the trench since none of them had the ability to fly. He was somewhat thankful he wouldn't have to face all seven as he cloaked himself to sneak past them. But it wasn't as though he was entirely safe from a possible conflict. Though Sideswipe had always been known for his friendly good nature, he was still one of the Autobot's most deadly and efficient warriors and Starscream knew not to underestimate him. Even with the handful of humans behind him, he would defend them at all costs.

"Sideswipe," he greeted.

"What do you want, Starscream?" Sides demanded. "What do you and Vortex have planned?"

Peyton's eyes widened into saucers. _Starscream…?_

Starscream's immediately wanted to correct the other mech about how he wasn't working with Vortex, but kept decidedly quiet. Instead he opened his cockpit, slowly when Sideswipe was startled to aim his canon at the small movement until Kale was revealed entirely, still unconscious.

"Take him," he said.

Sides stared at the human in the cockpit amazed. "What?"

"He is a survivor from the base attack and may have invaluable information. Take him."

"Bu-…What?"

Starscream didn't have time for this. "Take the damn human!"

"Don't trust him, Sides," Glen said nervously.

"Do you want the survivor or not?" Starscream pressed angrily. "If not you won't get another opportunity. He is the only one."

Peyton's job was to observe and one thing she noticed was how eager Starscream was to get the human out and it didn't seem like it was because he was disgusted with him despite his demeanor. Honestly, he just seemed to be in a hurry. She frowned thoughtfully. He must've passed Optimus and the others on the way here. They would be sitting ducks in a plane so why didn't he think to shoot them down? He could have taken out five of the seven Autobots but he didn't. Instead, he brought a human survivor to them. Was Optimus wrong about him? Maybe he changed sides?"

"Sides, I'm going to get him," she said.

"What? No! You stay here!"

"Cover me!" she called to him before approaching the jet.

"Peyton!"

Starscream watched as the human woman came towards him. He dislocated his wing and allowed it to slope down like a ramp. Peyton only hesitated for a moment before rushing up the wing and into the cockpit, not even looking back as Sides leveled his canon as a precaution, looking anxious. Pulling off the helmet, Peyton stared down at the attractive man in the seat. His thick hair was dark and spiky, cut short. She had to admit his face was model worthy with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. He was damn good looking.

Tossing the helmet aside she moved to undo the harness strapping him in when it retracted on its own. Oh yeah, technically that was a part of Starscream. Grabbing him under the arms, she tried pulling him up. His body was tall and lean, hardly an ounce of fat on him, but he was _heavy_. She managed to pull him up and out, but as soon as he was out of the cockpit, his weight forced her back. The limp body falling on top her, knocking her onto her back with a startled yelp and then knocked the wind out of her. Sliding back down the wing, she hit the ground with the dead weight of the pilot on top of her. Looking over the pilot she could see Starscream pull away and take off like a shot back into the sky in the direction he came from.

She could feel the pilot's breath against her neck as she tried to shove him off. Rolling him over onto his back she stared down at him as Maggie and Glen run up to her. The pilot moaned a little. He looked a little beat up with extensive bruising and small burns.

"Are you insane?" Glen all but shrieked.

"You're grounded," Sideswipe announced.

"You're not my mother," Peyton replied as she continued to check the pilot's injuries.

"What if he killed you? Huh? What was I supposed to tell Optimus?"

The pilot moaned again and blinked his eyes weary. He looked up at Peyton and then looked around confusedly. "Starscream…?"

He fell unconscious again, leaving them slack jawed.

Peyton looked up at her new friends. "We need to tell, Optimus."

* * *

Jeffery huffed tiredly as he mauled over the paperwork of his latest case. Murdered exotic dancer from a gentlemen's club made to look like a simple OD. Dancers from Donnie's had the habit of turning up dead, but there was never enough physical evidence to pin the 'former' gang banger for murdering his own girls. Rubbing his eyes wearily, he really wished Peyton was with him on this. It wasn't that he was losing his touch with his intuitiveness on cases, it was just it was hard to concentrate when a young woman, who tended to act irrationally and was damn stubborn, and was considered to be your daughter went out gallivanting with giant robots from another planet.

Peyton's mother, Ellen, had thankfully received the long awaited call from her very much alive daughter. He knew this for sure because the woman lashed out at him for keeping secrets. Peyton's grandfather, the comedian that he was, had also been really worried and uncharacteristically pessimistic until he learned that Peyton was perfectly fine. He then proceeded to cuss up a storm like his finger was slammed in the car door about his granddaughter blatant disregard for his poor heart.

He had already received his daily call as well. He was very aware of the attack on the base near Guam on the Mariana Islands and how the majority of the Autobots were going to take care of it. He also knew that the remains of the deceased Decepticons from Mission City were at the bottom. Putting two and two together it wasn't hard to figure out the plan. Hopefully, Optimus and his soldiers could reach the trench before Vortex could pull Megatron out.

"Hey, Chief," Carter announced, striding casually into his office, "got that 419 you wanted. I think I cracked it wide open."

"Good for you," Jeffery said dismissively. "Get Miller in the interrogation room, present the evidence. You know the drill."

Carter looked a little put out. "Don't you want to know how it happened?"

"Carter," he said, pulling off his glasses, "my daughter in every way but blood is in the middle of a war with an ancient, alien robotic race. I don't know where she is all the time and I don't know what she's doing. Her mother won't stop calling me, asking questions about her and I can't answer and things are not looking good for the Autobots at the present time which in turn makes things bad for Peyton. To top it all off, I have _my own_ case to work," he said gesturing to the file. "So when you ask if I want to know about _your_ case the answer is a most definite no."

Carter balked at his supervisor, but Jeffery ignored him, looking back down at the file. Carter moved the leave the office, irritated when he stopped at the door.

"You know, Peyton's a smart woman," he said. "She knows how to handle herself in any situation and you know it. You should know better then anyone." He turned to see that his monologue had gained Jeffery's attention. "Peyton's dedicated to everything she has 100 percent. To you, to this job, to Optimus. She's loyal and after thinking about I'm not really surprised she decided to stay with the Autobots." He laughed a little. "She was never one to turn her back on someone who needed help."

"Carter—"

"Let me finish before I realize what I'm saying," he interrupted. "I know Peyton is your best in the field. She learned from the best, right? She's got this. You helped raise a really intelligent, strong woman, Chief. You just have to have a little more faith in her."

There was a moment of silence.

"You haven't said a nice thing about Peyton in almost a year. Not since you two broke up."

Carter chuckled uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, good thing she wasn't here to hear it, huh? She'd smack the hell out of me."

"I don't think she would," Jeffery argued. "I think she would appreciate it."

Cater looked at Jeffery doubtfully. "Maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do." His tone was teasingly, but Jeffery knew that he wasn't joking.

"Well, then your recently developed sensitivity where Peyton is concerned is secret with me."

"Thanks. I have a reputation as a narcissistic dick to uphold." He headed back to the door. "I'll get Miller and wrap up this case."

"Carter," Jeffery called after him, causing him the pause again. "Let me know how it goes. Then I want you on this dancer case with me. I could use another set of eyes."

Cater grinned, eyes lighting up. "You got it, Chief."

* * *

Sam couldn't believe how long he had to run from the school until he felt like he was far enough. He arrived at the park and automatically headed for the meeting spot. To say he was freaked out would be an understatement. Staring across the horizon towards the city Sam fell to his knees, panting and exhausted.

 _What have I done?_

He was sick. Did he kill Trent? Sam gagged on the air he was breathing. Lurching forward he lost the little lunch he managed to get down at school. Tears in his eyes, his face red he was assaulted by continuous dry-heaves until he fell onto his side in a heap.

Pain erupted through his body and it was all he could do not to scream as his body curled into a ball. He felt like he was dying as a burn moved through his body, but there was no one to help him. Bumblebee, Optimus, his parents…

"Mikaela…"

He didn't want her last vision of him to be one she was afraid of. He wanted to apologize for what he had done to her, even what he had done to Trent. Mikaela was probably out looking for him right now. No way would the faculty be able to hold her back.

Sam bit back another cry as his body went into another painful spasm. As tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, he managed to raise his right hand close to his face so he could see the markings that had transferred from the Cube to him. Silver cracks with a white glow appeared in his skin, following the lines and ridges of the marks. It wasn't hard to tell that it was metal and it cut through the skin of his hands like tiny knives to the point where he bled. As he watched this process it begged a complicated question;

 _What am I?_

Trapped within his pain and confusion, Sam didn't notice the sound of a rumbling engine or the sound of rolling tires in the dirt coming toward him. The mustached police officer didn't get out, but the passenger side door did open. Frenzy rushed out, crackling wildly as he went to Sam's side, speaking just as erratically and nonsensical as before. When Frenzy poked the human boy he twittered almost happily and that's when Sam noticed that he wasn't alone.

Panicked fear filled Sam's chest and prompted him to get away. He tried to drag himself away, but he couldn't stop the smallest Decepticon, who he had presumed dead to stick a syringe in his neck and inject him with a sedative. Sam shoved him away, but Frenzy had already pushed down on the plunger. Within second he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Let's go," Barricade ordered.

Frenzy crackled manically again and began to drag the limp human towards the cruiser as the back door popped open. As soon as Sam was secure, Frenzy slammed the door shut and got into the front seat.

Barricade's hologram arched a thick eyebrow at the little mech before he opened a line to Vortex. "You were right. The boy's connection to the All Spark during its destruction had altered his biological structure."

"Good," Vortex replied. "Scorponok has not returned to the surface yet and we're running out of time. Dead End and Breakdown are on route to Tranquility to pay a visit to the human pets the Autobots seem so keen in keeping. Take the boy back to base. We'll meet you there."

"Understood."

The line was cut. Barricade looked back the quivering human, mostly at the boy's palms. He could sense the power radiating from him; the same power as the All Spark. He was surprised the Autobots hadn't picked up on it sooner. Though Barricade had been watching Sam Witwicky for a while now and this was really the first time he felt the full effects of the All Spark's energy. Soundwave had been correct. There was no way such a powerful object such as the All Spark could simply be destroyed. There was far too much energy and even the smallest fragment would contain some residual power at least. That was a law of physics was it not? Energy can not be created to destroyed. Well, in that case, the All Spark hadn't been destroyed. It just changed form.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter. Nothing really changed about it. I hoped you liked it anyway! Thanks for reading and I hope I get the next one up at a lot sooner.

Please Review!

-Ray


	16. From the Depths He Will Rise

15\. From the Depths He Will Rise

Mikaela called Sam's cell again. She had lost count how many times she had actually called him, but every time it went to his voicemail her heart sunk even further into her gut. With her phone pressed to her ear, she was, once again, greeted by Sam's cheerful voice mail recording, but she hung up before it could finish. She cried out angrily as she threw her phone against the dashboard. Miles looked over at the girl, a little stunned at her outburst combined with the day's previous developments concerning his best friend becoming the Incredible Hulk, minus the green complexion. The girl dropped her face into her hands and tried to keep herself from crying, silently wishing that they Autobots were there to help.

Oh, God.

What would she tell them?

What would she tell Bumblebee?

What would she tell his parents?

She shakily inhaled a deep breath. Lifting her head, she forced herself to calm down. Throwing a fit was not going to find Sam.

She and Miles were in his rusty Ford Ranger, driving up and down the streets of Tranquility. Though Mikaela knew that Sam's current issues were more of a matter for her and the Autobots to deal with Miles refused to be left behind and seeing that her mo-ped was destroyed by Barricade almost a year ago she needed a ride.

"We'll find him," Miles stated firmly as they stopped at a red light. "There's only so many places to go. And as soon as we find him I want to know everything."

Mikaela focused out the window. "Miles…"

"No," he interrupted. "I want to know where that new Camaro came from. I want to know why he never calls me anymore. I want to know why he was out of school for so long." He noticed Mikaela slouch in her seat, her blue eyes locked on the passing scenery. "Sam and I were just fine until he got that car and you…" he scoffed. "Everything was great until you showed up."

Mikaela whirled on him angrily. "There are bigger things going on here, Miles!" she cried. "There's more to Sam then anyone, even me, realizes. I don't know what's been going on, but if you think you're the only one that's been pushed away then screw you! He's not talking to me either! He's not talking to anyone!"

Miles flinched with guilt and in result he couldn't let himself look at her as the floodgates released and she was crying and yelling in the passenger seat.

"I've tried to get him to talk! To tell me what's wrong! I'm sorry that he hasn't called you. What he went through recently…" she trailed off, feeling as though she had said too much. She wiped tears from her eyes.

"What?" Miles pressed. "What did he go through?"

"Forget it," she finally whispered. "It's green."

Miles looked up at the street light that seemed to stare down at him with one green eye. Miles's hands were tight on the steering wheel. He hit the gas harder than necessary and the truck lurched forward. The silence in the cab was thick and weighed down on both of them.

Mikaela's phone rang and she didn't even both looking at the caller ID before she answered with a pleading, "Sam?"

"Uh, no, it's Peyton."

"Oh," Mikaela said softly, slouching in her seat again. "Sorry."

"Uh, are you okay? Where's Sam?"

Mikaela swallowed thickly, her voice dying in her throat.

"Mikaela? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know where his is right now. I've tried calling him, but he's not answering." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Something happened at school today."

"What happened?"

Mikaela hesitated. "You first."

Peyton was quiet for a moment. "Well, Starscream stopped by a little while ago."

Mikaela's mouth dropped. "What? Are you alright? Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine," Peyton reassured quickly. "He didn't attack us. He just…well…"

"What?" she asked eagerly.

"He brought us a survivor from the base attack. He, um, he pretty much saved this guy's life."

Mikaela frowned. "That's…weird."

"Yeah, apparently. Everyone's telling me he's supposed to be one of the bad guys and all like 'humans suck,' but then why would he give us a survivor?"

"Where are you now?"

"We're still at Will's place. He and Epps just showed up. Optimus wanted all of us to stick together since Hound and Sides are the only ones here."

"Where's Jason?"

"At work."

"Is that really safe?"

Peyton snorted. "Probably not."

"Okay," Mikaela said, releasing a breath. "How's Sarah?"

"Well, a jet just landed in her back yard not too long ago and tore up her lawn. Not to mention the vibrations knocked some stuff of shelves and what not. She's dealing."

"Alright, I'm on my way."

"How are you getting here? Do you need a pick up?"

Mikaela glanced at a curious looking Miles. "I'm getting a ride."

"Okay, I'll let Sides and Hound know," she replied. "So are you going to tell me what happened with Sam?"

Mikaela pursed her lips together. "I'll tell you when I get there."

"Okay," Peyton said, not sounding thrilled. "See you soon."

Mikaela flipped the phone shit and leaned back in the seat.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to meet up with some friends," she said. "You're going to go home."

"Are you kidding me?" Miles yelled angrily. "Was that about Sam still?"

"This?" she asked, holding up her phone. "It wasn't just about Sam."

"What the hell is going on, Mikaela?" Miles demanded. "How much trouble is Sam in?"

"This isn't just about Sam," she repeated.

"Then what was it?"

"I can't tell you!" she cried. Her voice cracked hoarsely with desperation and worry. "I can't tell you! Please just believe me when I say that it'll be better for you not to know. I'm sorry, Miles, but this has nothing to do with you."

Another awkward silence fell over the cab. Miles was grinding his teeth, his knuckles pure white as they gripped the steering wheel hard again. Mikaela dropped her face into her hands and leaned against the door feeling terrible for a number of reasons.

After a moment Miles whispered. "Your friends will help you find him?"

Mikaela lifted her head. "Yeah."

Miles huffed. "Will you at least tell me when you find him?"

She looked at him. "Yes."

Miles looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Where do you need to go?"

"It's a little far from here," she said. "Outside of town. Turn here."

"Okay," he said, following her directions.

"Miles…"

"No," he interrupted softly. "Sam's different now, I know. Something happened to him that day you both went missing. Besides," he laughed a little, "scrawny guys like us can't send jocks like Trent flying across the room like that. But…But I guess I'm pretty useless right now. You know more then anyone what's going on with him."

"I don't know much more than you," she replied.

"But you still know more," he countered. "So I'm going to let this go for now. Once you find him you're going to tell me everything that's going on."

Mikaela smiled through her lie. "Okay."

Miles smiled himself, more bitterly like he knew she was lying to him. "Good."

She looked over at the boy. Like Sam, she really didn't notice him at first. Being in the clique she was in they were on opposite sides of the teenage social spectrum, but now, she couldn't see why she never got along with them and it made her a little ashamed at her shallowness a year ago. She had always thought of herself beyond the need to conform, her biggest asset being the fact she was a hot chick who liked to work on cars. She honestly couldn't help but feel grateful that she got into the car last year. Even with everything happening, fifty years from now she would always be grateful she had the guts to get in the car.

Even if she and Miles were at ends with each other concerning Sam, she couldn't help but commend his loyalty and determination for looking out for a friend.

"Miles," she said, "thank you. I will see what I can do."

Miles looked surprised, if only for a second. Mikaela didn't understand why he would. She was really grateful for his help and this time she meant it.

Cautiously, Miles offered a tentative smile. "You're welcome."

* * *

Peyton snapped her cell shut and face the group of humans standing around in the Lennox living room. "Mikaela's getting a ride here. She's on her way now."

"What about Sam?" Will asked.

"She said she didn't know where Sam was," she replied. "She sounded a little choked up."

"Did they have a fight?" Sarah asked. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know," the younger blond admitted. "She wouldn't tell me much, but she'll talk when she gets here."

"Hopefully solider boy will be out of the bathroom by then," Glen said.

Their groggy guest had already woken up, but he didn't say much, even when Will and Epps tried to be all army-superior on him to get him to talk. He just stared at them, unfazed before asking to use the bathroom. He had been in there ever since. Sarah, even the polite hostess, brought him some towels and let him take a shower. The shower had ended some time ago, but he hadn't let the bathroom.

"Man, what is he doing in there?" Epps huffed irritably.

"He's probably really shook up," Maggie provided. "I mean, he's the only survivor."

"Why would Starscream save him?" Peyton pressed. "Optimus started filling me in on the profiles of the Decepticons and Starscream was towards the top on the diabolical villain list."

"No clue," Will growled, rubbing his eyes wearily. Agrravated, Will got to his feet, pacing the living. "What the hell is he playing at? The monster I saw in Mission City was shooting our guys out of the sky before they even had a chance to—" He breathed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. Sarah was next to him, her hand on his shoulder. He leaned into his wife subtly.

Annabelle, who was standing in her playpen, surrounded by an assortment of toys, turned to face him, her fist in her mouth. When she saw he father, a huge smile came to her face, showing her limited teeth that had started to come in. Will smiled at his daughter and she jumped excitedly, holding onto the rail of the playpen. Will picked her up and held her to his chest. Annabelle reached out with a slimy hand to play with his dog-tags, chatting adamantly in her undecipherable language.

Starscream had been to his home where his wife and daughter were.

"Will?"

Will turned his head towards Sarah, who looked really worried now. Will's fears must have shown on his face before when he reached out to his wife, Sarah immediately wrapped her arms around his waist. Kissing the top of her head, Will didn't want to think about what could have happened if Sides and Hound hadn't been there or if Starscream attacked. The thought made him sick.

"Well, if he doesn't come out soon and give us some answers, those two," Glen said, jerking his thumb towards the window, "are going to get impatient."

Both Hound and Sideswipe were sitting on the drive in their vehicle modes.

"Maybe someone should check on him," Sarah provided, though she didn't look like she was eager to leave Will's side anytime soon.

"I'll do it," Peyton stated, heading for the stairs.

Making her way up there stairs she went a little ways down the hall, passing the master bedroom, the baby's room and the guest room. The bathroom was across from the guest room and door was shut. Taking a breath she knocked on the door.

"Hey," she called, "are you okay?"

There was no response.

"Hello?" she tried again.

She tried the doorknob and was rather surprised to find that it was unlocked. Slowly pushing open the door she called out that she hoped he was decent. The steam that filled the room was still pretty thick. It must have been one hot shower. But she could see the slouched form of a man sitting across from the toilet up against the wall with only a white towel wrapped around his waist. He hardly moved. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed he could pass for being dead.

Even from his slouched position, Peyton could see the expanse of lean muscle all over his body. She probably shouldn't have been surprised. Even when he completely clothed both Peyton and Maggie shared a 'oh, hot damn' look. His arms sat limply at his sides, his legs extended in front of him, his chin titled down towards his chest. Shaking anything inappropriate from her mind, she reminded herself that this man had just gone through a pretty traumatic event.

"Hey," she said softly, "how you holding up?"

He flinched and looked up at her surprised, then the door. "I thought I locked that."

Peyton smiled apologetically. "Sorry," she said. "It's just that you've been in here for a while. We were starting to wonder what happened to you."

He looked back down to the tiled floor of the bathroom and said nothing.

"What's your name?" she asked.

His green eyes flickered towards her briefly. "Kale."

"Nice to meet you, Kale. I'm Peyton." He didn't look interested in conversation, but she wasn't about to give up. "Kale," she began gently, "we know that your base was attacked, but we don't know the details."

"No, I don't think you would," Kale responded tightly. "I'm the only survivor, remember?"

Peyton tried not to flinch. "We have questions for you," she continued, "but I understand that you probably don't want half a dozen people asking you all at once, so how about we do this one-on-one?"

Kale looked up at her completely, his eyes calculating, but hollow. "How can you understand?"

Peyton sighed and walked over to the toilet. Pushing the lid down she sat down to face him. "Before I came here I was a crime scene analyst in Las Vegas."

His brows drew together ever so slightly. "Like the show?"

"Sorta, I guess. I've seen the kinds of things people could only ever imagine and how cruel people can be to each other. I've also seen and been through interrogations and I know that when people have gone through a traumatic experience or are mourning they don't like to have a bunch of people poking and prodding them for information. I'm giving you the opportunity to deal with this without an audience."

Kale averted his eyes to the tile again. His hands turned into fists at his sides as his entire body tensed. "My entire base…" he choked out, "everyone is dead. Tristan is dead."

"Was he a friend of yours?" she asked.

Kale nodded slowly. "He was right. I should've reported that son of a bitch before any of this happened."

Peyton tried to quell her surprise. "You mean Starscream. You know he was there before the attack?"

Kale cursed loudly as he swung his arm to the side, hitting the wall with a thud and crack of his fingers. "Yes…Yes, I knew. For a week he just sat there, doing nothing. He was hiding out."

"Did he kill—?"

"No," Kale quickly interrupted. "He didn't kill anyone. I promised to keep his secret if he didn't attack the base."

Peyton couldn't stop the surprised look that came to her face. Resting her elbows on her knees she tried to look at his face. Though she was pretty sure he was crying now, due to how choked up he was getting and the way his shoulders shook.

"He gave you his word he wouldn't attack?" she asked. At his nod she continued. "That probably wasn't your right to offer."

He nodded again. "No, it wasn't."

"Then why did you?"

"Because…" he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Because he wasn't there to attack the base. He was guarding the trench, like we were."

"How do you know?"

"Because when the other one showed up, the Black Hawk, to get their leader out of the trench, Starscream tried to stop him." He looked up at her with glassy eyes. "They fought each other."

Holy shit.

"Who won?"

"Well, the Black Hawk was winning. Starscream was…" He bowed his head. "Starscream was protecting me, though I hardly think he'd the type to admit it."

Holy. _Shit._

"I tried to help him, seeing that I was going nothing but getting in the way. I got to a fighter before they were all destroyed and we tried to take him down. Tristan…"

"Did he fight too?"

"Yeah," Kale said hoarsely. "After he…went down Starscream took me and flew off."

"Starscream saved you."

"God," he sobbed, "this is all my fault."

Peyton dropped down to the floor beside him. "Think it through, Kale. If Starscream hadn't been there you would've been dead too."

"If I had reported him, maybe we would have been better prepared," Kale countered.

Peyton shook her head. "Maybe. We can't know either way for sure."

"Tristan is dead because of me," Kale continued. "They're all dead because of me."

Peyton felt helpless as the obviously broken man beat himself with guilt. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she looked almost helplessly towards the door wishing someone would come in and take over for her. But no one would. Steeling herself, she wrapped a tentative arm around his shoulders, only to have him jerk away, even swat at it.

"Don't touch me!"

Typically, the normal response would be to feel more sympathy for the guy, back off and give him what he wanted, but Peyton was anything but typical. Her reaction was to lash out at him as well and without hesitance she smacked him the back of the head.

"Knock it off!" she hissed. "Listen you can sit up here all night throwing yourself a pity party till the cows come home, but it's not going to change anything. You don't know what could have happened if you had reported Starscream. For all you know, you could have died too. Fact is, you have something we need and if you want any of this," she gestured around, "to matter at all, you'll come downstairs and talk. Would your friend approve of you sitting up here moping like this?"

Kale's eyes flashed furiously and Peyton was sure that if she wasn't a woman, his fist would be becoming very intimate with her face. "You don't know a fucking thing about him."

Peyton nodded. "You're right I don't. You do. So tell me. What would he think about this?" she asked gesturing towards him.

Kale didn't want to answer because he knew exactly what Tristan would've done if he caught Kale like this. The bathroom door would've been kicked off its hinges and Tristan would've beat his ass into the linoleum.

Kale stared slack jawed at the woman. "Your bedside manner fucking sucks."

She sighed and ran a hand through her blond hair, suddenly felt badly about smacking him. "Look, I'm sorry," she said softly. "I don't handle…other people very well."

"Yeah," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, still looking slightly offended. "I can tell."

She bowed her head.

"But as unorthodox as it was..." Looking up she saw the hints of a smile, a sad one, but still a smile. "You're right even though you aren't very discreet. I might be dead if it weren't for Starscream saving me, I just…" he sighed. "I just wish that Tristan could have been saved too."

Peyton's expression saddened deeply for him. "There are lots of things we wish we could go back and change for the better, but we can't so the only thing we can do is keep going." She rolled her eyes. "Damn, what is with me? Ever since I got on this crazy ride I've been spewing emotional crap like it's my job."

Kale released a soft, but genuine laugh. "I don't even know you and think there's something off about that."

She scoffed before smiling as well. "Shut up."

* * *

Mikaela waved to Miles as he drove away. Rushing to the Lamborghini and Jeep Wrangler on the driveway she looked over her shoulder to make sure Miles was out of eyesight. It was nice that Will and Sarah had no neighbors for a couple of miles.

"How you guys doing?" she asked.

"We're good," Sides said. "But if they don't come out here with some answers in the next thirty seconds me and Hound are going to tear the roof off the house and get some answers out of that guy with some good, old fashioned interrogation through intimidation."

"Yeah I'm sure Will and Sarah will be thrilled about that," she muttered. "I'll see what I can do."

"Are you alright?" Hound asked softly.

"Yeah," Sides added, sounding concerned. "You don't look so good."

Mikaela nodded quickly. "I'm fine."

Oh, what a lie.

Rushing up to the house, she didn't knock when she entered, gaining the attention of the rest of the household. Mikaela must've looked horrible because at the same time both Maggie and Sarah rushed up to her and asked if she was okay. It wasn't until Sarah wiped at her eyes with a tissue from the table that she realized that her makeup had run a little since her road trip with Miles. That's probably what Sides and Hound were referring to. She cursed the boy for not warning her, but then again, he probably didn't want to offend her.

"Sorry," she apologized, taking the tissue.

"Peyton said you were looking for Sam," Maggie brought up. "What happened?"

"I think we should wait until Peyton gets back," Glen said. "She's getting the guy from upstairs."

"Oh, yeah," Mikaela said. "Sides and Hound are getting inpatient out there. Maybe we could take this outside?"

"Right," Will agreed, bouncing Annabelle gently as she dozed on his shoulder.

"I'll put her to bed," Sarah said, walking up to her husband, taking their infant daughter. "She missed her nap this afternoon anyways."

Will quickly pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead again. Sarah could see the stress starting to form worry lines on Will's face. She smiled before heading upstairs just as Peyton and Kale, dressed in a pair of Will's jeans and a shirt appeared at the top of the stairwell.

"About time," Epps said.

"Chill," Peyton retorted. "Guys this is Kale. He's got something to tell us."

Will turned to face the pilot. "Kale?"

"Kale Hamilton, sir," Kale responded like a good solider. "I'm sorry for, uh, earlier."

Will waved dismissively. "Don't worry about it, you were in shock. But now we need you to tell us everything you know."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's go outside before your house loses its roof," Maggie suggested.

Kale frowned confusedly and looked to Peyton who smiled and gestured for him to follow everyone out the door. Making their way across the lawn, Hound and Sideswipe quickly came to life. Kale, even though he had seen the transformation before, came to an abrupt halt and stared up at the two mechs and they crouched down, looking at him contemplatively with bright blue eyes, not red like Starscream's or Vortex's.

He knew that these were the Autobots, the good guys, but he still took a step back. It was interesting how much they differed from Starscream. Starscream was mostly silver. These guys were more colorful. One was red and the other was green. Their hands were less claw-like, like Starscream's and their teeth were fanged. In fact, they probably resembled humans more then their enemies.

"Alright, fleshy," Hound stared, fed up with waiting, "out with it. Why did Starscream save you? What are he and Vortex plannin?"

Kale immediately felt defensive against the accusation. "Starscream has nothing to do with what Vortex's plans. He tried to stop him."

Hound looked shocked and looked to Sideswipe. "You weren't kiddin' then."

Sideswipe shrugged. "He just showed up here and dropped him off."

"What was Starscream doing at the base then?" Will asked.

Kale flinched back. Peyton discreetly lifted her hand to Kale's arm, her fingers lightly touching him, a small sign of support. "I think he might have been hiding out."

"On the base that protects the trench were the Decepticon leader's body is?" Epps asked skeptically.

"That's what Vortex was after," Kale said. "He wanted to pull Megatron's body out of the trench."

There was a tense moment of silence before Hound sneered. "Yer sure about that?"

Kale nodded. "That's what Vortex said. And Starscream tried to stop him."

"I don't think you get it, kid," Sideswipe said. "Starscream is Megatron's second in command. He doesn't like humans. Why would he try to stop Vortex and save you?"

"I don't know," Kale admitted. "But he did. He wants you to know all this."

"This is ridiculous," Epps spat. "What? You think he just switched sides?"

"Decepticons don't switch sides," Hound growled out.

Kale looked up at the green and black mech defiantly. "Maybe you're wrong."

"Oh, and you know so more about the Decepticons then I do?" Hound said angrily.

"Okay, that's enough," Mikaela interrupted.

"Then why save him?" Peyton asked. "If Starscream is a true Decepticon why did he save Kale and bring the Autobots a witness. Now we know for sure what Vortex is after. He's after Megatron's body."

"But what would they want with his body?" Glen asked. "It's not like they can bring him back to life, right?"

Sideswipe and Hound both flinched and shared a look.

Glen looked up at them with wide eyes. "Right?"

"You can't be serious," Will said horrified. "They can bring him back to _life_?"

"Our laws of nature aren't as limited at yers," Hound said softly. "If I know Soundwave like I think I do then…they might have found a way."

"Did Starscream or Vortex say anything else?" Sideswipe asked. "Did Vortex talk anymore about his plans?"

"Not really," Kale said. "The objective was to retrieve Megatron. He rubbed Starscream's face in it actually."

"Starscream's second in command," Maggie said. "Why wouldn't he want Megatron to come back?"

"Megatron controlled Starscream through fear," Sides replied. "Starscream hates him, but was always too much of a coward to truly stand up to him."

"But what about Vortex?" Hound reminded. "He's leading the Decepticons. Why would he want Megatron to come back? He finally has what he's always wanted."

"We don't know enough," Will said with a sigh.

Sides looked down at Kale again. "So Starscream saved you as a witness?"

Kale shrugged. "I guess. When Vortex attacked, Starscream tried to fight him off. I tried to help, but…"

"Ya tried to help?" Hound asked, shocked.

"Of course I did," Kale yelled. "He was getting his metal ass beat because he kept on trying to protect me. I couldn't just let him do that on his own."

Everyone's mouth dropped except for Peyton's.

"Protect you?" Epps asked. "He was protecting you?"

"He stood between me and Vortex," Kale said. "He kept knocking him back from me, telling me to find cover."

"I don't believe it," Sides gaped.

Kale scoffed, "And I really don't care."

"Okay, settle down," Maggie said. "Maybe Starscream did change sides. We won't know until we talk to him."

"Oh, I can see that going well," Glen spat. "Hey, Starscream, buddy, how's it going? So word on the street is that you saved a human. So are you a good guy now?"

"During the battle, it was me, Starscream, and my friend Tristan against Vortex. Me and Tristan kept him pinned while Starscream tried to take him out." Everyone listen intently as Kale recalled the event. "Vortex manage to clip my wing and I had to eject. Starscream…" he sighed. "I was falling towards the water when Starscream caught me."

"I don't believe it," Sides repeated looking damn near traumatized.

"Vortex killed Tristan," Kale continued. "And Starscream said he couldn't fight to his fullest ability without killing me." He looked up at the two Autobots. "He could've dumped me, but he didn't. Hell, I even told him to let me out. He saved me and he brought me to you because he knew that if anyone could stop Vortex from getting Megatron it would be you."

"Where do you think he is now?" Epps asked.

"Personally," Kale said, looking over at the Sergeant, "I think he went back to the base to try and stop Vortex."

Hound scoffed. "Runnin' towards a fight? Not in his nature."

"Then he'll probably run into Optimus and the others," Maggie said. "Hopefully they won't kill him."

Kale paled a little at the idea.

"We'll just have to call them now, won't we?" Peyton said. "We'll tell them not to hurt Starscream."

"Alright," Will said softly, looking up at Sides and Hound. "Get Optimus on the horn. Let him know what's going on." He looked over at Mikaela. "Okay, Mikaela, now tell us what's going on with Sam."

* * *

It had nearly been the full four hours of Scorponok's time in the water and he had yet to return to the surface. He knew that Starscream would be back. It was uncharacteristic, but it wasn't like Starscream had much of a choice. If everything went according to plan, Starscream would be on Megatron's list of unresolved issues. Vortex considered the possibility that Starscream was no longer a Decepticon. After all, he had fled the battle with a human passenger. If he left for any other reason then self-preservation it was to keep the human safe.

No doubt that the Autobots have been alerted of the situation as well and were more then likely on their way. None of the Autobots could fly so they would have to reply on human transportation and which would slow them down. He supposed he could bet on human reinforcements arriving as well. Unfortunately, Vortex knew that if the humans were in fighters, they he and Soundwave would not be able to make much of a stand as they were, especially when they would be forced to support Megatron's body between them. They were running out of time.

"Soundwave."

"Give him more time," the mech automatically replied.

Easier said then done. Barricade had called not too long ago to alert him that he had the human boy in his possession and he was heading back to base with Frenzy. Breakdown and Dead End were currently making a trip to Tranquility as well to scout and perhaps provide a bit of a distraction for the Autobots.

"Vortex," Soundwave called.

Vortex shifted his attention back to the stealth jet. Soundwave dropped a horde of cables. Vortex followed suit and sure enough, he could detect Scorponok's movement under the surface of the water and he was able to detect that he was carrying something with him. As Scorponok broke through the surface, Megatron's body in tow, attaching cables to their leader's lifeless body, Vortex felt himself begin to laugh.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to say thank you to all that have reviewed and followed so far. I really do appreciate it and apologize for not sending personal responses. It really does mean a lot of me that you take the time to do so. I'm gonna try and get on that this time around. As always, thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray


	17. Highway to Hell

16\. Highway to Hell

 _No stop signs  
_ _Speed limit  
_ _Nobody's gonna slow me down  
_ _Like a wheel  
_ _Gonna spin it  
_ _Nobody's gonna mess me around  
_ _Hey, Satan  
_ _Payin' my dues  
_ _Playin' in a rockin' band  
_ _Hey, mamma  
_ _Look at me  
_ _I'm on my way to the promised land_

 _I'm on the highway to hell  
_ _On the highway to hell  
_ _Highway to hell  
_ _I'm on the highway to hell_

 _-Highway to Hell, AC/DC_

Sam was jostled awake as his ride hit a particularly nasty bump. The first thing he noticed was AC/DC's _Highway to Hell_ playing mutedly in the cab. Lifting his head, he held back a choked gasp as he stared through the gate separating him from the driverless driver seat and a spastic little robot twitching in the passenger seat. Previous events, like knocking Trent out and getting kidnapped by Barricade and, a once believed to be a dead, Frenzy came flooding back. He brought a hand to where the little bastard stuck him with the sedative.

Though he didn't want to admit, the chemically induced sleep was probably the best he had in a long time.

Unfortunately, his movements got Frenzy's attention.

"Witwicky, Witwicky, Witwicky," he hissed through the bars.

Yep, same old Frenzy. He never really did get the hang of Earth's languages, but at lease he could say his last name right unlike a few other individuals.

A familiar hologram appeared in the driver seat. "You woke sooner then I would have expected."

"What do you want with me, Barricade?" Sam demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," the hologram replied.

"Fuck you!" Sam yelled angrily, kicking at the gate. "Let me out!"

"Hmm," Barricade mused. "You seem a little more… _bold_ since the last time I saw you."

"Bold, huh?" Sam spat. "Yeah, pretty much, How about you let me out of here and I'll take you head on."

"You're kidding yourself," Barricade chortled darkly. "Even with your newfound abilities, you can't control them. You wouldn't stand a chance."

Sam tried not to let disappointment or his unease show. _Damn._

"We have plans for you, human," Barricade continued. The hologram cracked a unkind smirk. "Hnn, _human_ …If can even be considered that anymore."

Frenzy snickered in the front seat, with a sadistically gleeful look in his four eyes. Sam slouched in his seat. His hands were unbound which probably meant that Barricade had enough confidence that Sam wouldn't be able to escape or use his newfound powers. If the powers were going to give him constant pain and horrible nightmares then they should have been able to kick ass at his whim, but no! They had to be limited and volatile.

So, what would be the plan? When Frenzy went to get him out after they arrived wherever the hell they were going he'd kick the little shit-head in the face and take off running. At least that way he'd be able to get out and stand a chance of getting away. It was only a matter of time until they stopped.

As they continued driving in relative silence, minus Frenzy's twitchy movements and whirling sounds and the onslaught of classic rock and roll. It threw him off, as to why a Decepticon, something that was supposed to hate humanity, was listening to human music. But curiosity was overruled by hunger. Fear melted into irritation and his appetite was returning given he had thrown up what little he had for lunch.

Sam wondered how this could have happened. How could he have let himself get captured like this? Sure, he was freaking out at the prospect of not being completely human because of the All Spark, but that should've made him think to be even more careful then usual. Sam had put two and two together. He knew that holding onto the Cube while shoving it into Megatron's chest had changed him. He didn't know the extent quite yet, but that didn't mean he wouldn't find out eventually. What happened with Trent was probably only the beginning. Sam thought back on the incident; the look on everyone's faces.

The look on Mikaela's face.

He'd give anything for his cell phone to at least talk to her for a moment if only to tell her he was still alive. What about his parents? If they find out that he was kidnapped by the Decepticons they may never let him see the Autobots again. It hadn't even been a full year yet and Sam couldn't imagine his life without them.

He'd have to worry about that later though. Right now, he wasn't even sure if he was going to survive this.

He sighed miserably, getting Frenzy's attention again. The mech was peeking over the seat to look at him so all Sam could see was the cretin's beady optics as they watched him. Sam stared right back and the staring contest began. Frenzy rattled something off very quickly, but Sam managed to hear it perfectly well.

"Quit calling me a maggot, you piece of shit!" Sam shouted.

Frenzy reared back in surprise, then went absolutely nuts, sprouting angry sentences that insulted Sam and questioned how he had been able to understand what had been said. The cop hologram looked into the rearview mirror with a genuine look of curiosity and even a little surprise. Sam realized at that moment that Frenzy wasn't speaking English or any other Earth language. He was able to understand it so perfectly, like for a moment it was his language as well. He didn't even realize it was _their_ language.

"Interesting," Barricade said.

"Guess this means you can't start talking about me because I'll know everything you're saying."

Barricade chuckled darkly. Sam really didn't think it was funny so it only made him wonder what the Decepticon was thinking.

Sam's stomach chose that time to rumble irritably. Perhaps being kidnapped wasn't enough to curve his appetite like it probably would a normal human. Sam figured that was just his life now.

"What was that?" Barricade growled.

"Don't you have all access to the Internet?" Sam replied snidely. "It means I'm hungry. I need food and if you don't let me get some I'm just going to keep doing that." His stomach growled again as if to back him up.

Frenzy hissed at him from over the seat. Angrily, Sam scooted down on the seat and kicked the gate that separated them. Frenzy shrieked and ducked behind the seat further; cursing in a grabbled mess of what hardly sounded English.

Barricade tried ignoring the two as they fired nasty comments back and forth at each other. He tried to ignore the sound coming from the human's insides and the way he moved around, his constant fidgeting wearing on him. Barricade contemplated his decision for volunteering to retrieve the human.

"I want McDonald's," Sam suddenly voiced, his tone bordering on petulant child. If he was going to be kidnapped by this douche he was at least going to give him a hard time.

Barricade's hologram glared at the human in the review mirror, disgust and surprised that the product that came from the multi-billion door fast food chain could actually be considered sustenance. But as the rumbling sound continued without fail Barricade knew that he would have to placate the boy's appetite somehow. At the following exit, Barricade pulled off the exit.

And sped right by the McDonald's.

Sam scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Barricade pulled into the lot of a Wendy's, another fast food conglomerate. This one was located closer to the entrance ramp for the highway.

"Get your food and be quick about it," Barricade ordered. "Frenzy will go with you. Talk and every human in the vicinity is dead. You will not eat in here. You will eat outside where I can see you."

Sam stared at the regular people working inside, most of them high school students like him. He didn't doubt that Barricade would follow through with his threat so he nodded. Frenzy scurried out of the car and to the backdoor. As the door popped open he crackled up at the human as a hopeless expression appeared on Sam's face before transforming into a familiar small radio.

Sam got out of the police cruiser, his original plans flushed down the toilet as his picked up the radio and walked into the restaurant, holding Frenzy tightly, taking out some of his frustration on the disguised little bot knowing that Frenzy would reveal himself unless entirely necessary.

He ordered quickly trying ignore the strange look the girl behind the counter gave him considering everyone in the restaurant had seen him pull up in a cop car. Barricade's hologram was watching intently from the driver seat. He took his food to go and walked outside, thanking the girl with a forced smile. He wouldn't lie. Trying to signal that he was being kidnapped had crossed his mind, but he knew that Barricade would hold true to his word.

Carrying Frenzy in one hand, his food in their other, Sam, again, tried to ignore the stares he was receiving as he sat at one of the outdoor tables and slowly began to eat, not surprised to find that his appetite had disappeared. The familiar clocking and whirling sound indicated that Frenzy had half-transformed and was curious about human food as he stole a fry from the carton examining it in a mixture of interest and disgust.

"Hey," Sam said, snatching the fry away and shoving it into his mouth, "claws off."

Frenzy cursed the human in his own language, but Sam could still understand him.

"Oh, shut up," his spat. "It's not like you can eat it."

Frenzy shot back some mildly insulting comments and shrunk back into the radio form completely. Sam rolled his eyes and continued to eat until there was nothing left. Tossing the garbage into the neat trash receptacle Sam walked as causally as possible back to the cruiser, Frenzy back in his hand. He practically threw the radio in the car and headed for the back seat. The door slammed shut behind him and locked immediately.

Barricade pulled out of the lot and back onto the highway. Sam tried not to think about how weird it was for an evil entity to obey all the rules of the road, turn signals included.

Slouching in his seat he stared out the window. Without his hunger to buy him time he could only hope that the Autobots would figure out what happened and soon. He could only imagine what the Decepticons had planned for him. Looking down at his hands as they stung and throb, practically mirroring his anxiety his imagination was fixated on their plans having to do with what was happening to him.

* * *

Starscream pushed himself to go faster. He was already going at a speed that would crush a human body with the force, but in his mind he was still too slow. He'd never make it in time. Taking the human to the Autobots had wasted precious time he already could not have afforded and Optimus hadn't even been there. He would've taken Ratchet's presence over Sideswipe's. Or even Ironhide despite the larger mech's very trigger happy tendencies. Sideswipe was a grunt soldier. Virtually, a nobody.

As far as Starscream's scanners had been aware, Sideswipe was the only Autobot near them at the time he had left Kale to their care. If a majority of the other Autobots weren't there, then Starscream had an idea as to where they could be. He'd beat them to the base of course, not matter if they left for the trench before he did. None of the autobots had an alternate mode that gave them flight and they would undoubtedly have to rely on human transportation.

He was currently using a cloaking device, a crude one of his own creation, to keep from being detected, but at the same time he couldn't detect anything as well. Scanning required energy and the output of energy was like holding up a flashing sign saying 'look at me, look at me.' In order for the cloaking equipment to work properly he had to have a constant stream of energy filtering through it to mask his signal, but that didn't mean it protected him visually. No, you could see the F-22 streaking across the sky plain as day so in that case Starscream was forced to stray a little off course to keep the Autobots from spotting him. He used the device on the way to drop Kale off as well. That was Sideswipe hadn't noticed him until the very last minute.

Thankfully, he wouldn't have to go all the way back to the base, saving him some miles and energy for the fight he knew he was going to get himself into. According to his navigation system, he was getting closer to the trench.

* * *

Jason sighed, looking down at the clipboard in his hand. Walking around to the other side of the bed, he stared down at the elderly woman lying on the white sheets, her skin practically matching the hue. Her husband sat beside her, holding her frail hand. After days of fighting Nancy had finally succumb to her injuries. The car accident had left her virtually brain dead. The only thing that was keeping the woman alive was the ventilator and her husband had finally decided that enough was enough and it was time to let his wife go.

Jason laid a hand on the man's shoulder. "Mr. Peterson?"

Tired, old eyes looked up at him utterly heartbroken. After fifty-five years of marriage Jason could only imagine what the man was going through and his imagination was not pleasant. With a quivering chin, Mr. Peterson nodded kissing his wife's hand. Jason began to turn off all the machines. He removed the ventilator that helped her breathe and stepped back, waiting.

Mrs. Peterson breathed on her own for less then a minute. Her heart rate began to slow down until there was nothing but a piercing tone accented by a flat line. Mr. Peterson openly cried as he clutched her hand.

"Time of death 3:21PM," Jason said softly. Placing his hand back on the older man's shoulder he squeezed it. "I'm sorry, Mr. Peterson."

Mr. Peterson reached back and patted his hand in an almost reassuring way. Jason turned and left the room, walking past his colleagues and down the hall. It was days like these that he really hated his job. He didn't understand what was going on lately. Ever since the bus accident he had been really focused on not losing anymore patients, but in reality, there were a handful of people that were either gravely ill or serious injured. It was a reality had had accepted while in medical school, but now…

It was really starting to get to him.

He was under a lot of stress lately from trying balance work and his time with the Autobots. On more then one occasion he had considered leaving the Autobots and focusing on his career.

Jason shook his head. No, that wasn't an option. He wasn't going to just up and ditch Ratchet like that.

It was only natural that the two were the most compatible as partners since both were in the medical field of their species. Exchanging information was a daily occurrence and even though Ratchet could look up anything he wanted on human genetics and biological structure on the Internet he preferred to hear it from Jason, going as far as to say that it was much more valuable coming from him then the various websites he had found.

Humans fascinated Ratchet. Humans didn't have as long as a lifespan as Cybertronians did. In fact, Ratchet couldn't even recall a time where a Cybertronian, Autobot or Decepticon, died of old age.

Humans, on the other hand, died all the time.

Humans were murdered, killed in wars, wasted away by disease, killed in car accidents, and old age.

The Peterson story was a classic tragedy; a couple that spent most of their lives together then apart torn apart by an act of stupidity. The couple was going grocery shopping, part of their Sunday routine. Making a left across an intersection, Mr. Peterson didn't see the Dodge Ram coming right at him and the driver of the truck couldn't see anything past the text message that was apparently too urgent to put off. It ran a red light and t-boned the Peterson's car on the passenger side. The truck pushed them all the way into another care before it finally stopped. Neither the driver of the truck or the passengers in the second car that was struck were severely injured.

Mr. Peterson was beat up pretty badly with a broken collar bone and arm and nasty concussion. Mrs. Peterson, however, should have been killed on impact, but she miraculously survived. The right side of her body was crushed. Her right lung was collapsed and on the ride over in the ambulance they lost her pulse twice.

Jason was rushed into surgery to try and repair as much as he could without losing her. It took two surgeries to repair her broken body, and more than one surgeon to do so, but the damaged sustained to her brain was far too severe. There was nothing he could do other then to make her as comfortable as possible.

That was nearly six months ago, around the time that Jason had met Ratchet by chance.

The day that Jason had met Ratchet was one that Jason could never readily forget, even if he hadn't agreed to be Ratchet's contact. The Autobots were supposed to stick to the humans that were already involved either through the military or agents from the dissolved Sector 7. At the time, the only civilians involved were Sam and Mikaela. But Ratchet was never really one to follow orders unless they came from Optimus. Coincidently, Jason had been in Mission City that fateful day for a medical conference. While most of the humans in the city scrambled to clear the streets to get out of the way, Jason ran against the crowd, trying to help the injured and otherwise get out of the crossfire.

Ratchet had caught sight of him and his depicted harebrained heroics and as Jason attempted to rescue a woman from her overturned car, he caught falling debris from a nearby building that would have killed the good doctor immediately. He remembered how the massive robot had stared down at him with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

He remembered how the robot had also called him foolish and told him to run.

Jason then remembered how he told the robot 'make me' then proceeded to run off, further into the fray.

Through the rest of the battle, Jason noticed how close Ratchet stuck to him. Taking on Decepticons and providing cover for him as he got more and more civilians off the streets. It was also the day that Jason met Will and Bobby, helping injured soldiers to cover and providing emergency medical care.

At one point, Jason had managed to badly burn his arms while helping a buss full of people out of the vehicle that was engulfed in flames. He still had the scars. It was when the large, evil robot (better known as Megatron) went down and the dust had settled that he managed to wrangle some soldiers into helping him get injured people closer to Mission City General. Thankfully, while most of the hospital was virtually destroyed, some of the staff remained nearby with evacuated patients and helped with the injured soldiers and civilians alike that were brought over.

The whole time, Ratchet was within eyesight, silently observing, providing helpful scans which were faster and more accurate then X-Rays or MRIs, not that Jason had access to such equipment to begin with.

After that, Jason went home, back to Vegas. He had no idea that Ratchet would follow him until he spotted the Hummer waiting in the parking lot of the hospital. At first he thought nothing of it until he saw the Autobot insignia. Jason promptly decided that if the robot wanted to talk he would do it behind the hospital. Looking around, he made a quick gesture for the truck to follow him and sure it enough it did.

Ratchet transformed and popped the question that changed Jason's life forever. The mech had a habit of being rather blunt, Sam and Mikaela could attest to that. The pheromone incident. Enough said. Jason thought about it for a week before finally saying yes. Ratchet was rather pushy, as Jason thought back on it. He insisted on driving Jason to and from work every day and around town. It wasn't long, when Jason realized that he was in this for the long haul, that he sold his car. There was really no point in owning one anymore.

The same night that Jason agreed he met Sam and Mikaela. He recognized the two from Mission City since they seemed to be in the midst of the battle along with Will and Bobby. He'd meet Maggie and Glen later, as well as the Secretary of Defense.

Jason wondered how his friend was doing. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't worried. Working in a hospital always reminded him how fragile life was and even though the Autobots could sustain a lot more damage then humans could, they weren't invincible like all the contacts seemed to forget on more then one occasion.

Jason pushed through the door into the locker room and shoved it shut behind him, locking it from the inside, not really caring that a co-worker may have to get it at some point. Sitting on a bench in front of his locker, his head dropped into his hands, his elbows on his knees as he released a heavy breath. He was getting too emotionally involved with his patients, he decided. He should never be without compassion and pulling the plug on a life should never be easy, but he knew it would if he didn't care.

But it wasn't like he had a switch he could flip to turn off his humanity.

"Ratchet's right," he muttered to himself. "I need a vacation."

He had lied earlier when he told Peyton that she had inspired him too take a vacation himself. He took on another shift. If Ratchet found out he knew that he'd get a lecture despite the fact that Jason was thirty-six and perfectly capable of making his own decisions. But then again, even the staff was getting on his case recently. He'd smile through his exhaustion and tell them that he was sneaking cat naps here and there. They were more easily convinced then Ratchet would ever be. And he did try to get a few winks, but things always came up.

Oh, well, he'd deal with the consequences later.

His phone suddenly vibrated. Yeah it was against hospital rules to have a phone, but when you needed to be readily available to a race of autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron you needed to keep your phone on.

He flipped it open. "Harris."

"Hey, man, we have a bit of a situation."

"Bobby?" Jason asked surprised. "What's going on?"

Epps sighed. "Something freaky is happing to Sam and now he's missing."

Well, that wasn't good. "How freaky are we talking?"

"Freaky as in he sent a classmate flying across the room with a single hit."

"He got into a fight at school?" Jason balked. "That doesn't sound like Sam. It's not serious, is it? Was he suspended?"

"No, you don't it, man," Epps said, unease in his voice. "He literally sent this kind flying almost _twenty feet_ and then _laughed_ about it."

Jason's expression darkened considerably. "You're not exaggerating." It wasn't a question.

"Notta bit."

"Shit."

"That's what I said," Epps replied. "You need to get over here. Mikaela's worried sick and we need to find him before something happens to him."

Jason didn't answer right away. God, how more of this could he possibly take. Rubbing his hand wearily over his face he searched his mind for a doctor that would be able to take over for him.

"Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can," he said as he got to his feet. "Just let me get a replace…ment…"

The room went sideways and Jason swayed on his feet and the blood rushed from his face. Pitching forward, he fell against the row of lockers, dropping his phone in the process. Eyes shut, fighting off the blooming migraine and staving his nausea Jason tried to take deep breath. Bracing himself on his arm against the lockers he tried to keep his knees from locking while trying to stay on his feet. His vision was starting to darken.

"Jay?" Epps called. "Jay, answer me, man! You okay?"

Jason sunk to his knees and snatched his phone from the ground. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm fine."

"What was that noise?"

"I'm in the locker room. Walked right into a bench." he replied. "I'm a little tired. Long day, you know?"

"Yeah," Epps agreed. "Bet you can't wait for that vacation, right?"

Jason tired to keep his voice lightly and friendly. "You know it."

"Well, get over to Will's as soon as you can. Mikaela's got Tranquility with Peyton and Sides. Will and Sarah are going to head towards Vegas. You and me got the in-between with Hound. Maggie and Glen had to report to Keller."

"Alright," Jason agreed. "I'll take a cab."

"Right. Get here quick, man."

Jason took a shuttered breath as his snapped his phone shut. His stomach tossed in his gut as bile burned the back of his throat. He managed to get to his feet and make it into the bathroom before depositing what little he ate today into the toilet. Feeling well enough to get up, he went back to his locker and quickly changed out of his scrubs into a pair of jeans, worker boots and a long sleeved shirt. Tossing on a jacket, he called for a cab and told the nurse at the front desk to call in a doctor under the name of Becket. Climbing into the cab upon its arrival he gave the directions and tried to relax, trying to get rid of the migraine that pulsed in his brain.

Maybe he really should sign up for that vacation.

* * *

Ratchet had always considered himself to be a rather tolerant individual, but there was only so much that he could take before he found himself feeling more then fed up. With Ironhide's practically nonexistent patience wearing him down, Ratchet tried Jason's method of counting to ten to keep himself from lashing out. He had already tried that nineteen times and it clearly wasn't working for him. As the most hot tempered and eager to shoot first and ask questions later it was a bit unnerving that Ironhide was the weapons specialist. In Ratchet's professional opinion, Ironhide needed to be under constant supervision if ever given anything that had a trigger and resulted in 'boom.'

As Iornhide continued to roll back and forth in his vehicle mode, akin to pacing, complaining about the cramp aircraft that were being transported in, Ratchet was beginning to considered Ironhide to be something else all together.

"You're a claustrophobic."

Ironhide paused in his rolling. "…A what?"

"It's a human term for a psychological condition. When a human feels varying levels of fear and anxiety when enclosed in small places it is called claustrophobia."

There was a deep huffed from the black truck. "I'm not human. How could I have a human condition?"

"That's just the human term for it. And that doesn't make it any less true," Ratchet said confidently, in what Sam had dubbed his 'doctor voice.' "You are a textbook claustrophobic."

Ironhide hummed aggravatingly. "I'm perfectly fine, Ratchet."

"You keep on claiming that this plane is too small and your inability to stay still demonstrates your unease," the medical officer continued. "If you start to feel like the walls are closing in on you, just let me know."

"I'm not a claustrophobic," Ironhide reiterated firmly.

"Well, could you sit still them," Sunny piped in irritably. "You constant fidgeting is annoying."

Ironhide grumbled under his breath and the body of the truck sank down on its tires, but he didn't move much after that.

Bumblebee's gears started to grind. _"We gotta hurry. Can't this bucket a bolts move any faster?"_

"It shouldn't be much longer," Optimus replied.

"At this rate we probably won't even make it in time," Ironhide huffed.

"The humans are getting us there as fast as they can, Ironhide," Optimus defended. "They are trying."

"It won't matter much if the Decepticons get Megatron out of that trench before we get there," the weapons specialist countered.

Optimus fell silent. He really didn't want to believe that that's what Vortex had planned from the start, but it didn't stop it from being the most likely of reasons the base would even be a target on the Decepticons' radar. Peyton had already called, explaining about Starscream's surprising appearance. While his and Peyton's relation as partners was still in its beginning stages it didn't change the fact that her run in with Megatron's former second unnerved him greatly. The man that Starscream had seemingly rescued made him wonder what Starscream's intentions were, but Optimus knew that they had to differ severely from Vortex's.

Was Starscream turning his back on the Decepticons?

Optimus didn't want to put to much prospect into the idea and until he knew for sure, Starscream was still his enemy. Peyton had also told him that as soon as the pilot of recovered Starscream went back the way he had come. Optimus could only speculate where the Decepticon could be going. There would be no way of knowing until Optimus spoke with him, which the Autobot leader totally intended on doing.

The tone of Peyton's voice let on that she was deeply worried about something that went beyond her first encounter with a Decepticon and the hazardous mission that the majority of the Autobots were on. Optimus had always been good at reading people through body language and tone and he easily picked up that something else was going on. Peyton had only reassured him and encouraged him to focus on his mission. Conceding her point, he let it go, momentarily of course.

"Optimus, sir," the pilot said over the speaker, "we've arrived at the base."

"Thank you," Optimus said. "We're ready."

Ironhide rolled forward anxiously. "Finally."

"Patience is a virtue," Ratchet grumbled.

"Not one of mine," was the gruff reply.

As soon as the plane had landed and the ramp was lowered the Autobots left the confines of the carrier, they transformed and took in the scene, expecting the destruction around them, but still seemingly entranced by it all the same. Some remaining fires continued to smoke while the response team tried to finish them off. Bodies of the young men and woman were being lined up, waiting to be identified. All the precautions that had been taken, all the security measures that the Autobots had deemed efficient, all the precautions made, all for nothing.

"They didn't stand a chance," Bumblebee uttered.

"How could this happen?" Ratchet demanded. "There were warning systems, protocols in place."

Optimus' gaze remained locked on the rows of bodies. He could hear the second jet land, knowing it was full of soldiers. Fighter jets sat the cleared runway, prepped and ready to go. After a moment Optimus turned towards his own soldiers.

"Autobots," he said grimly, "prepare for battle."

* * *

A/N: So...yeah. Nothing good happening here. Peeps messed up. This chapter has the same premise of the original. We're on a road to some bad things. All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading!

Please Review!

-Ray


	18. Bartholomew

17\. Bartholomew

 _Oh, my god  
_ _Please help me, neck deep in the river screamin' for relief  
_ _He says, it's mine to give, but it's yours to choose  
_ _You're gonna sink or swim, you're gonna learn the truth  
_ _No matter what you do you're gonna learn the truth sayin'_

 _Ate the bread the once was stone  
_ _Fell from a cliff, never broke a bone  
_ _Bowed down the get the kings overthrown  
_ _And I'm all alone and the fire grows  
_ _And I'm all alone and the fire grows_

 _-Bartholomew, The Silent Comedy_

Their mission was rather simple, simple to the point where it could be considered overkill sending them both. Breakdown's headlights went out first, followed quickly by his comrade's. Dead End rolled up beside him, but only for a moment, seemingly to share some silent communication before he pulled forward, further into the alley. Breakdown followed, the two sports cars weaving around buildings into more alley ways to get to their destination. Barricade was heading back to base with the boy now and their mission was to make sure a very clear message was delivered to the Autobots.

Vortex was all about getting his point across.

"So why this human? Why is she so special?" Dead End questioned.

"She not only has ties to the Autobots, but to the American government," Breakdown responded. "With her dead no doubt the Autobots will be devastated. They've grown rather attached to their human pets."

"How do we even know she's here?"

"Enough," Breakdown hissed. "I've already hacked the GPS on her phone and tracked her here."

They stopped in an alley in between to apartment complexes. They paused and Breakdown quickly scanned one of the many rooms above.

"She isn't alone," Breakdown announced.

"What now?"

"We wait."

"I still don't see how she's so important," Dead End said. "She's hasn't even been with the Autobots for that long."

There was malicious glee in Breakdown's tone as he said, "I'm sure Sunstreaker would disagree with you."

* * *

Maggie folded her arms on her desk as she stared at the screen of her laptop. On the screen was the grim face of the soon to be former Secretary of Defense, soon to become Autobot Ambassador.

John Keller was not a young man by any means, but Maggie couldn't help but think the man was aged beyond his years. She felt a flood of sympathy. He had told her once that after his time as Secretary of Defense he was going to retire from politics, but with the Autobots and Decepticons on Earth he had reluctantly chosen to stay on board for a little longer, representing the Autobots in the political scheme, mostly to make sure bureaucratic tightwads weren't fear driven to try and get rid of them, inadvertently dooming the human species to the Decepticon's rule.

Yep. The idiotic notion that if the Autobots left Earth, then their Decepticon enemies would also leave was _actually_ on the table.

Maggie had scoffed at the idea, rolled her eyes and called them morons.

Keller had nodded affirmatively and seconded her motion.

"They should be arriving at the base any minute now," Keller said softly. "Optimus knows what he has to do."

"But how can Vortex even get Megatron out of the trench without freezing or getting crushed by the pressure?" Maggie asked. "Are we really sure that's what he even wants?"

Keller laced his fingers under his chin, his eyes weary. "I have no idea, but there's nothing else there. Why the Mariana Base over all the other, less guarded, bases? Recovering Megatron's body is the only logical option."

"This sucks," Glen stared from the couch, holding an only partially eaten BLT. Even Glen's ravenous appetite was deterred with these developing events.

Maggie sighed worriedly. "If Megatron comes back…"

"How could they bring back a dead guy?" Glen interrupted quickly.

Maggie ignored him. "I think he'll go after Sam."

Glen frowned. "What? Why? …Oh…"

"Technically, Sam killed Megatron," the blonde clarified. "And now Sam's missing."

Keller, obviously, having not heard this news, looked startled. "Missing? Who was the last to see him?"

"Mikaela," she replied. "Sam got into a fight at school and ran off afterwards. The others are looking for him now."

"Well," the man huffed, tossing his arms up and leaning back in his leather chair, "this is _fantastic_. He should not have been left alone with so many Decepticons unaccounted for."

"Bumblebee's gonna freak," Glen muttered.

Maggie's mind quickly shifted over to Sunstreaker. She hoped that he was okay. He was much more of a big softy then he let on and she knew that he had been more then a little uncomfortable leaving her behind with only Sideswipe and Hound there to protect all of them. With a majority of the Autobots at the base across the Pacific, the concern was that they were going to spread themselves too thin. At the rate in which the Decepticon's forces increased versus their own it was becoming a more and more relevant problem.

But as far as anyone knew, Vortex was the only Decepticon there. Hopefully that would remain the case, but Maggie didn't delude herself into thinking that it would.

* * *

Vortex didn't sense the F-22 before he saw him, which was odd. Starscream came in fast, his rage practically tangible. Despite being at a disadvantage, Vortex was eager for the imminent fight what was going to take place. Soundwave seemed more annoyed then anything, but focused on tracking Scorponok's movements underwater.

Vortex cut off Starscream's approach, partially transforming, allowing him to use the guns on his arms, but keeping the blades from his helicopter mode rotating so he remained airborne. Shooting off two missiles, Starscream was forced to bank hard to his right and tried again to get to Soundwave, forcing Vortex to cut him off again.

"Leave," Vortex ordered.

"Not yet," Soundwave replied, gravely.

The thick cable that was attached to Soundwave that went deep into the water suddenly jerked. The cable began to reel in slowly. Vortex, trying to keep Starscream at bay never saw Scorponok emerge from the water or the remains of Megatron attached to the line before Soundwave secured the body and took off with a sonic boom.

Starscream moved to follow, but Vortex quickly intercepted again. "You ran from our fight last night, Starscream," he prodded. "And for what? To save that human's life?"

"Get out of my way!" the F-22 bellowed.

"I can understand why you wouldn't want Lord Megatron to be resurrected," Vortex said, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "I'm sure your imagination is more than capable of coming up with lots of creative ways he will _break you_ when he finds out how hard you tried to keep him in that trench."

"Enough!" Starscream roared.

If Starscream felt any fear incurred by Vortex's words, to his credit, he did well to hide it as he shot off a volley of missiles. Vortex banked hard, just dodging the assault and countered with a machine gun on his arm. He needed to keep Starscream distracted long enough for Soundwave to get out of range of the jet's scanners. Shooting forward, Starscream braced himself for the frontal attack, but last minute, Vortex transformed fully into a helicopter, nearly knocking Starscream out of the air as he flew by.

While Vortex put some distance between them, going in the opposite direction of Soundwave, Starscream contemplated chasing him rather then engaging Vortex on a one-on-one battle. But just as the idea passed through his processor it was gone as Vortex began firing on him again, clearing intent on keeping his attention. There was a slim chance that Starscream would be able to catch Soundwave at this point while Vortex was tailing him. He'd have to defeat Vortex quickly if he wanted to catch up. Growling to himself, he rotated in the air, converting to his alt form and took off after Vortex.

Vortex flew backwards, using various rockets and propulsion systems to keep himself one step ahead of his enemy as he continuously fire volley after volley of rounds. Starscream cringed as a few pelted his left wing, but it was superficial, not enough to bring him down by a long shot. The F-22 fired an array of missiles, but only managed to get a few moderate hits on the copter. Vortex knew he needed to get out of the air if he wanted to stand a better chance since Starscream was far more equipped to handle an aerial battle, but at the same time, if he kept Starscream's attention long enough and let him get hotheaded like he usually did, than he'd be able to get on the ground, or better yet, inflict a fatal blow.

Both of the Decepticons were unaware of the aircraft carrier plowing through the ocean in their direction until they caught sight of it in their peripheral vision. Sensing the Autobots on board maybe Vortex felt a little weary about being so out numbered but at the moment, Starscream just seemed to only worry about killing him. Firing upon the Autobots would undoubtedly be a bad decision since he'd have more to worry about than Starscream. The Autobots hadn't fired on either of them yet, perhaps they were trying to determine the situation or maybe they just were curious to see who would win. Either way, it allowed Vortex to concentrate solely on Starscream, at least for the time being.

* * *

From the carrier, Optimus was very much aware of who exactly was fighting in the air above them as they came up to the trench. Surprised would probably be the best way to describe how each other Autobots felt upon seeing Starscream and Vortex trying to kill each other. Peyton had told him about the human Starscream had saved. As much as Optimus considered Starscream's character, having known the Decepticon for years beyond human comprehension, he couldn't imagine Starscream ever doing such a thing for someone of his own faction, or even species, let alone a species he considered beneath him.

"Optimus?" Ratchet asked.

"Do not fire until I give the command," he responded.

"Oh, c'mon!" Ironhide protested. "Let's take them both out."

"No," Opitmus replied, his tone final. "We don't know Starscream's intentions."

"Well, right now…" Sunstreaker mused, "I'd say they were to kill Vortex."

"Starscream saved a human during the base attack. He was one of the pilots shot down and Starscream rescued him," he explained, watching the fight. "Until I have a chance to speak with Starscream you will not shoot."

"Why would he do that?" Bumblebee asked. "He wouldn't."

"I didn't believe it at first as well," Optimus admitted. "But I trust Peyton and the human has no reason to lie."

No one looked happy about the latest development, but they would obey their commander and watched on silently, until Starscream transformer and tackled Vortex out of the air.

"That fool!" Ironhide bellowed.

Vortex had to agree. He managed to transform in Starscream's grip as they plummeted towards the water and wrestled a canon in between them. The first shot clipped Starscream's shoulder causing him to rear back enough for Vortex to fire again right at his spark casing. As the rogue Decepticon plummeted into the water Vortex transformed back into a Black Hawk and began to make his retreat.

"Now!" Optimus ordered.

The five Autobots shot off simultaneously, giving Vortex a hard time to dodge. A few shots managed to cause sufficient damage, but being in the air gave him the advantage and he was able to escape.

"Damn," Ironhide growled.

Optimus moved across the deck, already scanning the surface of the wait, waiting for Starscream to reemerge. But he didn't.

"He's dead," Sunny determined. "There's no way he'd survive a shot like that."

"Ratchet?" Optimus asked.

Ratchet's optics focused on the moving water, trying to lock onto Starscream's energy signal. His surprise at finding a small trace of spark energy must have shown on his face because before anyone could stop him, and to their dismay, Optimus leapt off the carrier into the water.

"Optimus!" Bee yelled, his vocal processor cracking.

"What does he think he'd doing?" Ironhide fumed.

"Starscream's alive, but barely," Ratchet answered. "If we want the answers we seek than we need him alive."

Sunstreaker crossed his arms, shifting his weight. "That's unfortunate."

It wasn't long until Optimus broke the surface of the water, Starscream in his grip. The Decepticon's optics had blacked out and he was losing a substantial amount of energon, but Ratchet was still able to detect the pulse of his spark as it faded and flickered back to life. Ratchet moved first, pulling a thick line from his wrist and casting it down to them. Optimus grabbed it and held securely and Ratchet stared to recall the line with Ironhide's help. Bumblebee grabbed Starscream under his arms as soon as he was able to reach him, pulling him aboard the carrier which Sunstreaker went to help Optimus.

Ratchet dropped to one knee next to his newest patient examining the wound, carefully prodding the ruined metal and exposed circuitry.

"Can you repair him?" Optimus asked.

"Perhaps." But Ratchet didn't sound too sure. "The wound has caused severe damage to his spark, but from what I can tell it wasn't a direct hit. I will not know for sure until I've had a chance to properly examine him, but his injuries could very well kill him."

Ironhide scoffed, stepping away from the semi circle around the wounded Decepticon. "Good riddance."

"I will see what I can do," Ratchet continued, "but I can do nothing here."

Optimus nodded, understandingly. "What do you need?"

"Everything I will need is at Jason's home, in his shed in that back. He offered it to me for supplies until we find a more permanent location."

"Alright," Optimus said, stepping away from the crowd. "Turn us around. We're going back to Tranquility."

Sunstreaker gestured towards the trench. "What about—"

"It's done," Optimus interrupted. "We sensed Soundwave and Scorponok heading away from the battle. We all know what they were carrying."

The Autobots looked at each other uneasily, like no one wanted to admit it.

"They have Megatron's body," Optimus provided for them grimly.

Bumblebee lowered his head. "Now what?"

"They have no possible means of reviving him," Ratchet said. "Not without the All Spark."

"Then why go though all the trouble of hauling him up from the trench?" Sunstreaker countered. "Vortex wouldn't make a move that would leave him so vulnerable if he didn't have a plan."

"We have to got back," Optimus stressed. "The Decepticon base is somewhere in the western continental US and until we can figure out what the Decpeticons are doing we need to stay with out human charges.

"Especially Sam," Bee stated softly, if not a little apprehensively.

Optimus agreed. He would hate for anything to happen to the boy for Bee's sake, but the boy had risked everything to help them defeat the Decepticons nearly a year ago and no doubt that Sam was a primary target. He refused to allow anything to happen to boy that had helped save his life and the freedom of his planet.

"Ratchet."

"Sir?"

"Turn us around."

* * *

Mikaela shifted in the passenger seat of a speeding red Lamborghini. Peyton was pretending to drive as they raced down the main street to get to the next location in their search for Sam. Kale was cramped in the back having decided to stick with them since Peyton was the only one he remotely knew in the while state of Nevada.

"Mikaela," Peyton began, "I need you to tell me exactly what happened at school today."

The brunette huffed. "I already told you."

"No, you told me shit," she shot back. "You're not telling us something and if that something can help us find Sam, then why would you keep it hidden?"

Mikaela's bottom lip trembled. She turned her face towards the window so they wouldn't see her crying. Peyton felt guilty, she really did, but having made a career of observing people she knew when people were lying, or in this case omitting something. But at the same time, while it could explain more about Sam's situation, they both knew that it would make things much more complicated.

"Mikaela," she said gently, "please."

"His hands," she whispered after a pause. "His hands have been hurting him lately."

Kale frowned as he leaned forward. "What do his hands have to do with anything?"

"They're always red, like he burned himself," she explained further. "And when he hit Trent…" she looked at her tightly clasped hands in her lap.

"What?" Peyton pressed. "We know he hit this kid pretty hard, but did something else happen?"

"His hands were glowing."

Sideswipe's concerned voice came through the speakers, "Glowing?"

"Yeah," Mikaela responded, her voice choking up. "His hands were getting brighter and brighter the angrier he got and when he hit Trent he…he-he _enjoyed_ it. He started _laughing_."

Peyton tried to think about what it could mean while she placed a hand on Mikaela's squeezing them gently. Sideswipe played the radio softly, something mellow hoping it would clam her. Kale just looked absolutely lost as he sat back in his seat. It wasn't that he didn't know who Sam Witwicky was. Everyone on base knew who he was. The kid was only seventeen and had gone through so much, Mikaela too. Normally, he'd say that kids their age shouldn't have personal experience with war, but then again, he was only a few years older then them.

"It's going to be okay," Peyton tried to reassure the crying girl. "We can find him."

"Why didn't he say anything?" Mikaela asked. "Why didn't he tell me something was wrong?"

"He didn't want you to worry," Kale spoke up softly. "I don't know Sam personally, but if he kept it a secret from you, from all of you, he didn't want anyone to worry about him."

"He could have told me! He could have trusted me!"

"He does trust you," Peyton added. "He trusts all of us. You, Will, Bumblebee, the other Autobots! We all…" Her brow furred in thought. "Son of a bitch. Sideswipe go to the park. Why the hell didn't we go there first?"

"I did," Mikaela pointed out. "He wasn't there."

"Well, let's try again. Maybe he's there now. We've looked all over town so let's retry some places," Peyton said.

"Right," Sides agreed.

Unfortunately, the usual meeting place was in the opposite direction in which they were traveling. Sideswipe slammed on the brakes and cut the wheel hard to the left, turning the car around while drifting across the median to the other side. The occupants, of course, screamed and hit him repeatedly for not warning them, but Mikaela had a bit of a smile on her face from the rush.

Arriving at the park, they knew that Sam wouldn't be there given that Sideswipe couldn't detect him. All three climbed out and stood at the top of the point while Sides transformed into his bipedal mode. His bright optics scanned the ground as though he could see something that his human companions couldn't.

"Barricade and Frenzy," he said, darkly. "They were here."

"Frenzy is supposed to be dead," Mikaela said. She thought back on when she had first met the deranged little Decepticon.

Sideswipe's optics were grim as he looked down at her. "He's very much alive."

"I take it that that's not good," Kale said to Peyton.

"Probably not," Peyton replied.

"Why would the Decepticons come here?" Mikaela asked.

Something else caught the mech's attention. Kneeling down, he extended two large fingers and picked something off the ground. Mikaela had a sinking feeling in her stomach when Sideswipe circled air through his vents, sounding very much like a sigh as his held out his hand with a curse. Sure enough she was staring at Sam's cell phone.

She didn't cry when she reached out to take it from him, her hands shaking.

She didn't cry when she flipped it open and saw that screen was cracked, but was still able to see the number of missed calls.

She didn't cry when Peyton wrapped a tentative arm around he shoulders, looking practically helpless.

"They took him," Mikaela whispered in confirmation.

That's when she started crying.

"I have to call Optimus," Sides said.

"We need to call Will and the others too," Peyton added.

Mikaela continued to quietly weep as she stared at Sam's phone.

"We'll get him back."

"How do you know?" the teen spat.

"Well, I know Sam isn't stupid. He'll do what he can to keep himself alive. He needs you to hang in there and if you want him back you're going to have to tough it out."

Mikaela was too argue. Besides, it wasn't like Peyton was wrong. Sam would buy himself some time until they could get him back.

Sighing, she allowed herself to sit down on the grass still holding the phone like it was the only piece of Sam she had left. She couldn't lose him.

Peyton moved away from the grieving girl as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over to Kale. "Call Will."

He nodded and took it, immediately flipping it open.

Peyton scanned the ground. Something caught her attention, making her frown in a mixture of curiosity and dread. "Sides," she gestured to the ground. "I need a light, please."

One of the headlights on Sideswipe's chest tilted downward to where she was pointing and something flashed. Pulling the sleeve of her sweater over her hand she knelt down and picked up a used syringe. She rolled it over in her hands, being careful of the needle. There was a label on it.

"M99. Etorphine hydrochloride." She faced the tall robot. "Can you look it up?"

After a moment Sides responded rightly with, "It's a tranquilizer usually used on game animals."

Mikaela looked up startled. "What?"

"If they used this on Sam to subdue him then there should be trace amounts of blood on the needle so I get a DNA match. I'll need access to a lab though," Peyton said.

Peyton had only known Sam for a short time. She hardly knew any of them really, but she still felt for tem whether or not she showed it. She tried to press personal matters out of her mind knowing that if se was personally involved it would only hinder her ability to process this scene like it was any other. After all, what was this but crime scene?

"Tire treads," she pointed out walking a little further, Sideswipe following her with the light. "Footprints, obviously not human, and a long depression leading to the treads." Kneeling down she examined the ground carefully. "Sam was dragged to Barricade by something around the size of a child, maybe a little taller."

"Frenzy," Sides provided.

"I thought Frenzy was a Decepticon," Peyton said.

"He is. He's just a lot smaller then the rest of them. His size allows him to get into places the Decepticons can't," Sideswipe explained.

"Well that explains the footprints," Peyton said. "Frenzy drugged Sam, dragged him to Barricade and stuffed him in the back. Then they drove off."

"Alright," Kale spoke up. "I just talked to Captain Lennox. He's going to call Sergeant Epps and Maggie."

Mikaela looked at Peyton hopefully. "He's not dead," Peyton said. "The dose was controlled, not enough to kill him. They want him alive."

"What are we going to tell Bumblebee?" she asked. "What about his parents?"

Yeah, Peyton wasn't looking forward to that conversation either. "We have to tell them the truth."

The four stood in silence in the harsh reality, each trying to imagine how Bumblebee would react, how his parents would handle the news that their only child was kidnapped, not by humans, but the Decepticons.

"I need to call Jeffery," Peyton said. "I don't have any authority here, but maybe he can help me out."

"What can he do?" Sides asked.

"He can get me a lab."

"And what good will that do?" Kale asked. "It's not like you can fingerprint a robot."

"Nope," Peyton agreed, "I can't." She held up the tranquilizer. "But I can trace this to the source, find out where they got it. This stuff if high end and they wouldn't just sell this to anyone. If I can find out the latest transaction dealing with Etorphine hydrochloride I might be able to find out when and where the Decepticons got it."

"Sounds like a plan," Sides said. "Let's get going."

* * *

She didn't know why she was so nice sometimes or why she agreed to pick up Glen his pizza when he was perfectly capable of getting it himself. Maybe she just wanted to get out of the apartment for a bit.

Maggie sighed as she climbed into her Chrysler Sebring. It was so different from Sunny. The entire aura was off. It was weird to drive a car that wasn't alive, and thinking that, itself, was weird. She laughed to herself as she started it up.

The car had been a spare if Sunny was unable to get her to work or if she needed to run errands. It was used, beat up, scratched, but it got her from point A to point B. Sunny of course hated it. He didn't like that she was driving a car that wouldn't be able to steer itself incase she was distracted or about to get into an accident so he tried to make sure he was around as often as possible.

She smiled, thinking about her best friend. He acted tough on the outside and though he could be a little vain he was internally a sweet guy. He would never admit to it, but he cared more than he let on. The vain thing was something she was breaking him of slowly, but surely. She proved what a sissy he could be when she 'accidentally' let a shopping cart roll right into him and scratch his paint job, which he yelled at her about, of course, once she was securely trapped in the car. She had rolled her eyes and told him to quit his crying. He grumbled the entire way home and didn't say another word to her.

Good times.

As she pulled out onto the road, distractedly thinking about her prissy Autobot friend, she didn't see the Porsche or the Corvette pull out of the alleyway next to her apartment and, without headlights, follow her into traffic.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait. My excuse? This was the first weekend I wasn't on call for work in a month. For real, all I do is eat, maybe sleep, and work these days. I don't like being a grown up anymore :P

Song choice was mostly inspired by Starscream's part in this chapter. I really reworked the fight between him and Vortex and I hope it was easy to follow and a little bit exciting.

Thanks for reading and please review!

Now, if you need me, I'll be in my pillow fort coloring and not being a grown up.

-Ray


	19. Signed, Sealed, Delivered

18\. Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Sam awoke on an uncomfortable surface; cold and metal. As he opened his eyes, he was startled to see that he was in a barred room. Sitting up a little more quickly then his head would've liked, he suppressed a painful groan as he tried to remember what had happened to him last night.

He remembered Barricade pulling off the road and into the desert. He knew they weren't in Tranquility anymore, but soon after he had finished eating, Frenzy leapt into the back seat and stuck a needle in his neck again, knocking him out so he missed any signs that would have clued him in as to where they were. Coming in and out of consciousness, he recalled Barricade stopping in the middle of nowhere and then being blinded by bright lights as the ground shook and then opened. Then Barricade was moving again, but Sam couldn't fight the drugs effects anymore and was out cold.

Now, he was in a jail cell, lying on the floor with no mattress or blankets. Hell, a pillow would have been humane enough for him.

He sat up again, this time more slowly, then got up and walked to the bars, trying to stick his head out as far as he could to look around. The cell, itself, was definitely not originally fit for a human, but the bars were close enough that he couldn't slip through. The hall that it was placed in was just as large with a wide hallway and high ceilings. He knew, without a doubt, that he was in the Decepticon base that had been long since hidden from the Autobots and their human allies because of Soundwave's cloaking technology. It was cold, dark, dank and downright unpleasant.

Sam huffed loudly and stepped back, grabbing his hair and pulling it. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

For some reason or another, it was that moment that he noticed how his hands didn't seem to hurt. Frowning, he looked at them, but then immediately wished he hadn't as a choked gasp tore from his throat, echoing around him.

The ridges on his hands, the ones that formed marking that had transferred from the All Spark, were embedded in his skin as silver, metallic lines. Touching a thin spiral in the center of his left palm with his finger, he expected to feel metal, but he couldn't feel a real difference between his real flesh and the silver stuff, other than how it was raised in his skin. He stumbled back away from the bars, his knees giving out as he dropped to the floor.

He didn't know for sure what it all meant, though he did have an idea. When he hit Trent there was no way that it was really just him. For one, Trent outweighed him a lot more than he'd like to admit. Trent was a football star, while he was just average. The strength he had used was not his own.

The nightmares, the pain in his hands, the incident with Trent; it all had something to do with the All Spark. After all, he held it until it was destroyed. It couldn't have been a coincidence that the same markings on the Cube were now on his hands.

Sam's eyes closed as his head dropped into his hands, resigned. "What did that thing do to me?"

"I thought that it would have been obvious by now."

Sam's head snapped up to see Barricade standing in front of the cell, red eyes glowing coldly in the dimly lit hall. Sam thought of his first encounter with the Decepticon, him demanded to know if he was LadiesMan217, the location of glasses, and such. When the events of Mission City were over he remembered sitting in front of Ratchet as the medic examined him for internal injuries when he suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. Maybe it was the rush of the evens that had recently passed, but when he thought of the menacing alien robot screaming, "Are you LadiesMan217" in his face. Sure he had been scared shitless at the time, but since it was all over he couldn't help but have laughed at that in the end.

"Well, it obviously isn't. Care to enlighten me?" Sam bit out. "What do you want with me? Are you using me as bait? Or do you want to torture me because I killed Megatron?"

Barricade stared at the boy in annoyance. "You destroyed the All Spark when you pushed it into Lord Megatron's spark."

Sam had the audacity to grin. "Oh, I remember that. Good times."

Barricade's optics narrowed, but he didn't rise to the baiting. "When you pushed the Cube into his spark you held onto it for the duration of its destruction, correct?"

"Yeah."

"You were burned, weren't you?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably, but rolled his eyes as he tried to let his growing unease show. "I thought you were going to tell me what's happening to me, not ask a bunch of questions."

Barricade knelt down, getting close to the bars as he stared at Sam in the eyes. Sam felt a little fear swell in his chest as he awaited Barricade's reply, both eager and apprehensive.

"The All Spark creates life; our race included," he stated. "When it was locked in between you and Megatron it did not want to be destroyed as much as any sentient being. A majority of its energy went into Megatron's spark, overwhelming it and killing him. But as your law of physics dictates, energy cannot be created or destroyed," there was a trace of something akin to mirth in his voice, "but it can be _transformed_."

Sam felt his stomach plummet.

"With the Cube destroyed all that remaining energy latched onto the nearest, living thing that it could find; you. And the All Spark's energy has been growing stronger and stronger within you ever since." He stood up straight, looking down at Sam, who was locked in shock. "So I guess you could call yourself the _new_ All Spark."

Sam's eyes widened as his nightmares replayed like a movie in his mind. He saw the death of all his friends, his family, and the Autobots. He saw darkness and blood and scraps of metal. When he turned around he saw Megatron, staring down at him with malicious joy and longing of power in his optics as he reached for him.

" _My…All Spark…."_

Sam released the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding, panting heavily. Barricade said nothing else to the boy, leaving him to wallow with the knowledge that he may not be a human as he had once been before. Sam when to hold his head in his hands, but stopped and looked down at them again. He didn't want his hands toughing anything else, like they were diseased. Making his hands into fists he contemplated if there was a way for him to handle being the All Spark in human form. He seriously doubted it. 

* * *

Peyton stood at the edge of the lookout, phone pressed to her ear. "C'mon, pick up. Pick _up_ …"

After a few more rings a voice finally came through. "Ellis."

"Jeffery!" Peyton exclaimed.

"Peyton," he answered. "It's been an entire day and you haven't called me. What did I tell you?"

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized. "We got a little caught up in something."

"Did you even call your mother yet?"

Peyton rolled her eyes, feeling like a teen being lectured. "Yes, I called my mom. She's okay and she wants me to have a nice vacation. Look, Jeff, I need your help."

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"No, no I'm fine. It's Sam. He's been kidnapped."

"Sam?"

"You never got a chance to meet him. He'd the one that destroyed the Cube in Mission City."

"I know of him. Keller filled me in," Jeffery responded. "Have you called the police?"

"Well, they won't be much help. He was kidnapped by the Decepticons."

"…I see."

"Yep."

"So what can I do for you?"

"I need access to a lab," she stated, "or at least some equipment. I have a used syringe with some probably tranquilizer traces in it. I think they used it on Sam."

"You're out of my jurisdiction Peyton," Jeffery said. "I don't think I can get you access to a lab in Tranquility. I don't even know if they'll have all the equipment that you'll need."

"You can't call in any favors?"

"No one owes me anything there and you're not working for me anymore. Even if I could call in favors you no longer have clearance." Jeffery said. "But what about Keller? Did you call him?"

"No, why?"

"Hang tight and I'll give him a call."

Peyton bore a relieved smile. "Thanks Jeffery."

"Your welcome. I'll call back with your answer."

"Right."

Snapping her phone shut she turned to face the three standing behind her. Mikaela still clutched Sam's phone while Kale paced. Sideswipe was sitting behind Mikaela, fingers twitching, waiting for an answer.

"He's going to talk to Keller. Maybe get me something I can work with."

"What do we do now?" Mikaela asked softly.

"Lennox wants us to meet back at base," Kale said. "Apparently, they're all coming back."

"Alright then," Peyton said. "Let's head there."

Sideswipe wordlessly stood and backed away from the humans, before transforming into his alternate Lamborghini mode. Doors popped open and the three humans climbed inside, Mikaela vouching for the back seat this time so she could lay down, curled up in the seat. Tires spinning, Sides took off down the dirt road until he got to the main street once again.

The ride was silent until Peyton's cell went off.

"Callaghan," she answered.

"Alright. You're getting access to the Mission City crime lab. It's relatively new, but they should have everything you need there. The supervisor's a pretty decent guy so you shouldn't have too much trouble…especially with a letter with the presidential seal."

"Thank you George W.," she laughed lightly.

"I hope you find the kid soon," Jeffery said. "I'll keep my eyes open for anything thing here."

"Hopefully, you won't have to," she said. "Thanks, Jeffery. I really owe you one."

"Yeah, you do. Good luck and please be careful."

"I will." Flipping her phone shut again, she signed. "I have an all access pass to the MC crime lab so I should have all the equipment I need to trace this drug."

"Can you really find Sam with only a syringe?" Kale asked.

"Not directly," she replied, "but if I can get the seller I might be able to trace it. I'll need to go back to the scene too, just in case I missed something."

The rest of the ride was silent, other then Sideswipe playing some soft music, but it was more for Mikaela's benefit then any, given that she was still very distraught, curled in the back seat. Pulling up to the base they could already see Hound and the others, minus Maggie and Glen, standing around. Sides pulled to a stop and let his passengers out before transforming.

Hound looked down at Mikaela, sympathy in his bright blue eyes. "How ya holdin' up, little lady?"

"I'll be fine as soon as we get Sam back," she replied a little more shortly then Hound deserved. Her gaze flickered up apologetically and Hound winked at her, reassuringly.

"Well, we really can't do anything until Optimus and the others get back," Will said with a heavy sigh.

"I don't think their mission went so well," Jason added. "They shouldn't be coming back so soon."

"So what do you think?" Epps asked, feeling just as negative about the situation. "You think they got Megatron out of that trench?"

Jason nodded. "Most likely."

"Well, that's just perfect," Will said angrily.

"They have no way of revivin' 'im," Hound stated. "There ain't no way to revive a spark without the All Spark."

"So what do they want with his body?" Mikaela asked.

"Yeah," Peyton agreed. "They wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to get him if they didn't have a plan."

Sideswipe released air through his vents as he shifted on his feet. "For all we know, they could have just hated the idea of him rusting down there under human watch."

"That seems far too sentimental for those idjits," Hound countered.

Jason sighed. Looking down at his watch he realized that his next shift was going to start pretty soon and that he'd have to get going. His head throbbed with an excruciating migraine so he was unable to prevent himself from messaging his temples to try and alleviate some of the pulsing pressure in his skull. He didn't realize he had gained the attention of his friends until a firm hand came down on his shoulder, jostling him back into reality.

"Jay!"

Jason looked up and over at Epps, who bore a concerned expression. "Sorry, what?"

"You okay, man?" he asked. "You kind of zoned out on us."

"Yeah," Jason reassured, a little too quickly, as he tried to smile through his pounding vision. "Just a headache, that's all. It'll pass."

Epps didn't look convinced as his hand dropped back down to his side. "If you say so."

"So when's your vacation starting up?" Will asked, his arms crossed, his gaze scrutinizing.

From the beginning of his involvement, when Ratchet had stalked him to his house and proposed their partnership, Jason had always kept his cool. Out of the entire group, his patience rivaled that of Optimus Prime himself. So his sudden, emotional outburst left a few slack jaws, human and Autobot alike.

"Will everyone just get off my fucking back about a vacation!" he shouted angrily. "Christ, I get through one Goddamn day without anyone fucking nagging me about it!"

Thick silence fell over the group as they stared at the doctor with varying expressions of concern, shock, and even some disappointment.

Horrified with his outburst, Jason ineloquently, but quickly apologized. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap like that. Work's has been a little more…stressful then usual lately."

"What's going on, man?" Epps asked. "You're not acting like yourself."

And then Jason was pissed again. "I'm fine! I'm fine, now if you'll excuse me I have to get to work."

"But didn't you just get off, like, an _hour_ ago?" Will called after him.

"I'm pulling a fucking double!" was the angry reply.

They watched until Jason was out of sight.

Epps stepped back, rubbing a hand over his head as he faced the others. "Ratchet's going to be pissed when he gets back."

* * *

Maggie handed the money over the counter as she took the two large pizzas from the cashier. Glen had called in to his favorite pizzeria, which meant that Maggie had to pretty much drive across town to get it. How he convinced her to do so was still a mystery to her. Leaving the restaurant, she climbed into her car, and pulled out of the parking lot.

Part of her was grateful to Glen for talking her into picking up his pizza. It gave her some time out of her apartment, which had become rather stuffy these past couple of days. She enjoyed working for John Keller, it was an honor and a privilege to do so, but it only reminded her that they were in the middle of a war and something she just had to get out, pretend it wasn't real for a minute.

Maggie stopped at a red light, allowing her head to drop on the steering wheel for a moment. She didn't notice the red corvette pull up on her left until it felt like there was a pair of eyes on her. Shifting her hazel green eyes over, she saw a young man staring at her intently from the sports car. He was good looking, not much older than her, but as he smiled and winked, she was filled with unease.

Looking forward again, she focused on the street light until it turned green. Then she pushed on the gas a little harder to get herself away from him. Looking in her rearview mirror, she watched as he slowly slipped further and further behind her.

Any relief she felt went out the window when she felt like she was being watched again, this time on her right. She looked over quickly to see another young man, this one with darker, longer hair and paler skin and driving a purple Porsche. A sinking feeling was growing in her stomach as a powerful engine revved loudly and the red corvette pulled up on her left again. When she looked at the corvette driver again, his normal eyes had changed in a blink to be glowing red and it was in that moment she was being tailed by Decepticons.

She knew who they were; Breakdown and Dead End, but she didn't have any experience with either of them. She mostly knew of them from their file the Autobots had complied when it was first discovered they arrived on Earth. Her hands began to shake and she held the steering wheel tighter as she tried to keep herself calm. She looked over at the passenger seat where her purse sat. She tried to reach over inconspicuously to fish out her phone.

The Porche's engine roared loudly, causing her hand to snap back to the steering wheel.

Okay, so _that_ wasn't happening.

So, she just had to stay in a populated area with lots of people. There was no way that they'd reveal themselves in public.

 _Just stay calm Maggie_ , she said to herself, _they wouldn't transform in public…_

But that didn't really make her feel much better especially when her radio came to life on its own and the voice coming through it wasn't Britney Spears.

"Hello, Maggie Madsen."

Hell, she wasn't a Britney Spears fan, but she'd give anything to hear _Oops! I Did It Again_ over this.

She didn't say anything. She hardly doubted she could find her voice to do so.

"You have probably already figured out who we are. I'm Breakdown and this is Dead End and we need your help, Maggie."

"Really?" she asked, her voice hoarse. She slowed to a stop at another red light. "With what?"

"We need you to deliver a message to your Autoscum friends," Dead End replied.

Maggie's hands tightened on the wheel. "Autobots," she corrected.

Breakdown chuckled darkly though her Sebring's speakers. "Of course. Our mistake."

"What's the message?" she asked hesitantly, quickly wishing she hadn't.

"Tell them that his return is imminent," Breakdown said. "I'm sure you know who I am referring to. Tell them that they will fail in the pathetic mission to protect your pathetic race and this good for nothing planet that will soon belong to Megatron."

"That's what you think," Maggie said defiantly. "I'd like to see how you manage to bring the dead back to life."

"As I said, his return in imminent," Breakdown said, ignoring the jab. "The All Spark is ours now. Can you deliver this message for us?"

The light changed and Maggie started moving again, flanked by both sports cars. "What do you mean?" she asked, startled. "The Cube was destroyed."

"True, the Cube was destroyed, but its energy wasn't. It's actually taken up residence in a friend of yours," Dead End said, his tone mockingly casual. "The one who destroyed the Cube."

Maggie's eyes widened. "Oh, my God."

"God," Breakdown mused. "You humans say that a lot. Perhaps you should start praying."

"Shut up!" Maggie cried fiercely.

"Wow, she's feisty!" Breakdown bellowed. "No wonder Sunstreaker likes her so much."

"They'll stop you," Maggie told them. "You won't win."

"With the All Spark, I'm sure we can," Dead End said confidently. "Oh, yes, there's a part two to our message."

Maggie swallowed nervously. "What is it?"

Too her shock and terrified amazement, the corvette transformed on the street, something she had been counting on not to happen while they were out in the open. She was sure she was screaming, but she couldn't hear herself over the sound of screeching tires and clashing metal as the Sebring was spun around on the road, locked in the Decepticon's crushing grip as it was lifted from the ground.

The walls started to close in on her as the windows shattered, pelting her with cutting glass. The car was crushed from front to back and side to side. Her left arm was trapped between the door and the steering wheel at an awkward angle and she felt it snap in half. Her legs were trapped under the dashboard, preventing any movement.

Then, all of a sudden, she was falling. The crushed Sebring hit the concrete with a deafening crash, bouncing up and rolling onto its left side. Her trapped arm was jostled, her shoulder dislocating itself as her collar bone snapped as well and her forehead slamming into the top of the wheel, knocking her unconscious and opening a wound just above her right eyebrow.

People screaming and scrambled on the street. Cars crashed into each other in desperate attempts to maneuver away from the towering robot that looked down at the destroyed vehicle with malicious glee.

"I think you may have just made it impossible for her to deliver the message, Breakdown."

But Breakdown clearly didn't care. "Maybe she'll live. I'm sure Sunstreaker will _love_ this."

Transforming back into a corvette the two took off, their mission more than accomplished. One brave man ran to the car, looking into the shattered passenger side window, seeing the young woman battered and bleeding, looking dead. As gently as possible he reached in a pressed his fingers to her neck.

"Someone call 911! She's alive!"

* * *

Optimus was the first to exit the plane. The sun had long set, but he was still able to see Sideswipe and Hound standing in the distance with Will, Epps, Peyton, and Mikaela. Even though Sides had filled him in on Sam's kidnapping, Optimus still half expected to see the boy waiting there to greet them. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Bumblebee exit the plane and transform, his optics scanning the small crowd and looking downright confused when he didn't see Sam.

Optimus had decidedly kept the information to himself.

The plane pulled away into a hanger after they unloaded Starscream. The Decepticon was lying on a flat trailer bed, pulled by Ratchet. The rogue Decepticon was still unconscious, though no one was really expecting him to wake up.

"Starscream!"

"Wait, Kale!"

Optimus noticed the young human man running towards them, Peyton close behind. Stopping before the trailer, he really didn't seem to care that they were even there, only staring at the offline mech.

"What happened?" he demanded. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"We didn't do anything," Ironhide shot back.

Optimus interrupted the human before he could retort. "You must be Kale Hamilton."

Kale looked over at the leader of the Autobots and nodded. "Yeah. Is he going to be alright?"

"We don't know yet," Ratchet responded, looking down at the Decepticon. "I'll try to repair him, but…we'll see."

This didn't make Kale feel any better. Running a hand over his face he cursed and turned away from them. Peyton patted his shoulder before looking up at Optimus.

"Hey," she greeted softly.

"Peyton," he acknowledged.

"Look, sorry to skip anymore pleasantries, but a lot's happened while you guys were gone."

"Where's Sam?"

All eyes shifted to Bumblebee who looked confused, if not a little hurt that his best friend wasn't there. Mikaela looked absolutely lost. Her hands shook as she couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Where's Maggie and Glen?" Sunny asked. "Jason isn't here either."

"Maggie and Glen are talking to Keller in DC through a secure video feed over at her apartment," Will provided, "and Jason…well, he said he had to go back to work, so…"

Ratchet froze, lifting his hands away from Starscream and facing the Captain rather slowly, making Will gulp and step behind Epps, ever so slightly, much to the Tech Sergeant's dismay. "What?"

Peyton swallowed as well while making comparisons between her mother and Ratchet. "Yeah, I guess he's working a double shift…or something I don't know," she muttered under her breath.

Ratchet growled lowly. "I'm going to kill that foolish man, if he doesn't kill himself by running himself into the ground first, that is. Of all the inconceivable, idiotic, moronic things…how can someone so disinclined to care about his own health possibly have a doctorate in _medicine_ , I ask you!"

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him, then," Epps said, tossing his hands up. "He just blew a gasket not too long before you got back."

Ratchet grumbled and grabbed the end of the trailer that Starscream was on, walking away. Kale looked anxious to follow, even taking a step forward, but he refrained.

"You haven't told me where Sam is?" Bee pointed out, his optics darting to each one of the humans in their company.

His worry increased exponentially when all of them averted their eyes to the ground.

Desperately, Bumblebee turned towards his leader. "Optimus?"

"Bumblebee," Optimus began, his tone soft, "Sam has been taken."

The scout reared back in surprise. "What?"

"Barricade and Frenzy," Will spoke up. "They took him."

"It's my fault," Mikaela whispered brokenly. "Something happened at school today. Something's happening to Sam. He ran away and we tried to find him. We looked all over town, Bee! I'm so sorry!"

By now she was crying. Bee looked down at her, not really seeming to comprehend her words at first. Will had stepped forward, quickly catching Mikaela as she sunk to the ground, whispering reassuringly.

"What happened?" Bumblebee bit out. "What's wrong with him?"

"That," Optimus said, "we don't know."

"Keller's gotten me an all access pass to use the Mission City crime lab to analyze the scene where Sam was taken from," Peyton said. "I found a used syringe for tranquilizer, which we're sure they used on Sam. I might be able to trace the source of the seller and track it to the Decepticon buyer."

"Is he alive?" Bee asked.

"If they were going to kill him, they wouldn't need to drug him," Peyton explained. "They more likely want him alive."

Ironhide growled and rounded on Sideswipe and Hound. "How could have let this happen? Where were you?"

"Ironhide," Optimus interrupted, "pointing fingers is not going to help us find Sam. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. I am the one who ordered a majority of us to the trench." Hands formed into tight fists. "More should have stayed behind."

"Why would they even want Sam?" Sunstreaker asked. "What use is he?"

"He is the one who killed Megatron and destroyed the Cube," Sideswipe followed. "If they have a grudge against any human it would be Sam."

"We don't know if revenge was the motive," Peyton said. "If it was, why not just kill him and call it a day?"

"Maybe's he's bait?" Hound suggested. "I'm guessin' the lot of you are rather fond of kid, am I right?"

The Autobots shared a look. Yes, having spent so much time with Sam, they were all rather fond of the boy. Optimus Prime owed him his life. Even Sunstreaker had grown used to the boy's presence and found his jumpy nature to be rather amusing.

"We have to go get him," Bumblebee stated. "We need to get him back!"

"And we will," Will said. He stood as Mikaela began to calm down, but he stayed close. "But first we need to find out where they're hiding, what they're planning to do with Megatron's body, and why the _hell_ you guys brought _Starscream_ back here."

"He and Vortex fought," Sunstreaker explained. "Vortex got a really good hit on him, close to his spark."

Kale paled. He knew what that meant. When he had been selected to serve at the Mariana Trench base he and the other pilots were given a tutorial on the Cybertronians from their names, their faction, and how to kill them. Sable rounds did sufficient damage, but in order to ensure a clean and certain kill, they were told to aim for the sparks, located in their chest. Apparently, it was very much equivalent to a direct shot into a human heart.

"But he'll be okay, right?" Kale found himself asking again.

Sunstreaker's expression was practically unreadable as he stared down at the new human. "Perhaps."

Bumblebee looked over to Mikaela, whose cries has dwindled down to soft whimpers and sniffles as she tried to compose herself. Stepping up to her, he knelt down, watching as her shoulders tensed as she refused to look up at him.

"Mikaela," he said.

Mikaela wiped her cheeks and looked up, her blue eyes vibrant with unshed tears. Bumblebee held out his hand to her. Placing her hand on his finger, she let him help her up and didn't fight or protest when his fingers curled around her, gently lifting her off the ground to cradle her in his palms. After that, Bumblebee just walked away without a word.

Epps sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. "Damn it."

"We need to find that base," Ironhide announced.

Optimus watched the young mech walk away with the young human girl for a moment before squaring his shoulders and looking down at Peyton. "When do you intend to go to Mission City?"

"As soon as I can," she said.

"I'm going to check in with Maggie," Sunny stated. "Sides?"

"Right behind you, bro," his twin replied.

Quickly transforming, they took off from the air field.

Ironhide stepped towards his contact. "Let us check on your mate and offspring. I do not like that they are unguarded."

Will nodded, looking relieved. "You read my mind, buddy."

Iornhide transformed into a familiar topkick and they were off as well.

"Peyton," Optimus said, "will you accompany me to Jason's home? Ratchet has various tools in the shed that he'll need for his repairs on Starscream."

"Sure thing."

Kale felt more than a little awkward as he watched the largest Autobot transform into a semi. Peyton quickly hopped in, but before they left the passenger side door popped open as well. Taking it as an invitation, Kale climbed in, smiling at Peyton gratefully.

* * *

Jason was feeling really awful about snapping at his friends as he changed back into his scrubs. Rolling his neck, stretching his muscles, he sighed, allowing his eyes to close, trying to relax, if only for a moment.

Then his pager went off.

Looking at the screen he sighed and headed for the ER. "So much for that," he grumbled.

He jogged down the hall to get where he need to be. As soon as he went through the swinging double doors he was greeted by a crash cart and a stretcher with a broken and battered woman bleeding all over it.

"What have we got," he asked taking the clipboard from the nurse.

"Car accident…I think…"

Jason looked at her, a brow raised on his face. "You think?"

"They eye witness accounts were a little…sketchy."

"Joanna," Jason said irritably, "what happened?"

"…A giant robot picked up the car and crushed it," she said in a rush.

Jason was sure his heart almost stopped beating as the clipboard nearly slipped out of his hands. His eyes shot down to the woman on the stretcher and this time he felt it heart skip a beat as his breathe caught in his throat.

"Oh, God…"

* * *

A/N: Essence of this chapter has not changed. Sam understands more about what he's becoming and Maggie gets a message and also becomes one. Hope you liked the chapter. Thanks for reading!

Please Review

-Ray


	20. Failure

19\. Failure

 _Tired of feeling lost_  
 _Tired of letting go_  
 _Tear the whole world down_  
 _Tear the whole world down_  
 _Tired of wasted breath_  
 _Tired of nothing left_  
 _Tear the whole world down_  
 _Tear the whole world down_  
 _Failure_

 _-Failure, Breaking Benjamin_

"Sunny, slow down! This is a residential area!"

Sunny huffed as he as he let up going from fifty to twenty-five. He just wanted to get to the apartment as soon as possible, but since there was an accident on the main road they had to cut through the side streets and neighborhoods.

"Dude, what is your deal?" "Sam was just captured," Sunny said. "Don't you feel at least a little uncomfortable leaving Maggie and Glen alone?"

"They're in a populated area," Sides pointed out. "The Decepticons wouldn't attack them in public. They can't risk the exposure."

"I don't know about that anymore," Sunny said grimly.

"What do you mean?"

"Taking a boy so closely linked to us and one of the most powerful governments on Earth is exposure within itself," he explained. "Going after him was risky."

"That's…true." Sideswipe revved uneasily. "And what with them getting Megatron's remains out of the trench."

"I don't think that discretion in a factor in their plans anymore," Sunny said bitterly.

"Okay," Sides said, surrendering. "But this is still a residential street. Could we please slow down? I don't want to hit any human children running into the street after a ball."

"Most of the humans are sleeping, Sides. It's nearly 4 AM."

"Well, I don't want to hit a dog or cat either. They're cute."

"Sides…"

"What?" the mech replied indignantly. "Look at Sam's dog. Any animal that small brave to pee on Ironhide is a bona fide hero in my book. Now tell me that you don't like that little guy?"

Sunstreaker couldn't tell his brother that he didn't like Mojo. Sure the dog yapped a lot, but he had grown on a lot of the Autobots. Ironhide, of course, was excluded from that. Man, could he hold a grudge.

"He's okay in my book," Sunny admitted.

"Don't you wish we had been here to see that?" Sides signed whimsically. "That would've been a sight."  
Sunny found himself grinning internally. "That it would have been."

"So, can we slow down please?"

"Ten over?"

Sides probably wanted to go the speed limit but took that as the best he was going to get out of his brother. "Fine," he relented. "Do it now while I'm still in a good mood so quit your lollygagging." He drove up close behind his brother, nearly bumping him.

Sunny scoffed at the term. "Lollygagging?"

"It's a human expression for wasting time."

"Whatever," Sunny said, mentally rolling his eyes.

The Lamboghinis sped up following the tight curve with ease until they were eventually spit back onto a main road passed the accident clean up. They exceeded way over the speed limit outside the residential area, weaving in between cars, getting an array of horns and middle fingers. They both figured that they really were both driving like real 'douche bags,' as Sam would call it, but neither really cared at this point. Getting to their contacts was the priority.

They made it to the apartment and Sunny immediately noticed that Maggie's Sebring was gone. Sides called Glen's cell, getting an answer on the second ring. Glen, who knew that the Autobots had already returned state side, met them in the usual spot behind the building where they were safe from prying eyes.

"How did Keller take it?" Sides asked his partner.

Glen sighed heavily, leaning against the brick wall. "I couldn't tell. He looked like he was dealing, but I don't know…"

Sunny's expression was grim, full of worry and question. "Where's Maggie?"

"Oh, she went to get us pizza," Glen said. "She should be back pretty soon."

Sunny looked less then pleased as his arms crossed over his chest. "Right." He really didn't like the idea of Maggie being out there on her own.

She just went to get pizza, he reminded himself. She would be back soon. Sunny drifted in and out of the conversation between his brother and Glen. His gaze repeatedly drifted to the mouth of the alley, waiting to see the Sebring drive by with a blonde human behind the wheel, a stack of pizzas in the passenger seat. She never showed.

* * *

Jason pulled off the bloodied gloves and his mask. He ignored the wide stain of blood, turning brown, on the front of his gown as he tore it off. Leaning against the scrub sink, he took a few breaths. Looking through the glass back into the OR, he watched his assistant, circulator, and scrub tech finish putting on the rest of the bandages. Dr. Rice, the MDA, already explained to him that Maggie would be leaving on a vent and transported to the ICU.

He couldn't say he was surprised by that.

Turning on the water, Jason washed his hands, disregarding how they shook.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. Jason turned to find another surgeon standing beside him, looking into the OR and not commenting on his colleague's jumpiness.

"How'd the rest of it go?" he asked.

Dr. Craft was a neuro surgeon. While Jason's primary focus was orthopedic trauma, Dr. Craft was called in to address the contusions to Maggie's head. Dr. Craft was an older surgeon, but, as he claimed, not ready for retirement anytime soon.

Jason sighed. "It went...good."

Craft offered sympathetic pat on the back. "I took a look at her CT scan. From what I see, the swelling in her brain isn't as severe as we had originally thought. I'm going to suggest monitoring and medication before we put any burr holes in her head."

Jason nodded understandingly.

"Campbell in up on the floor and will be down to see what he can do about her lung."

Jason nodded again. He wasn't a big fan of Campbell. The thoracic surgeon was not a favorite among the staff, but his skills, experience, and knowledge could not be denied.

"You alright?"

Jason looked at his colleague, who bore a genuine look of concern. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Cause if I didn't know any better, I'd said that she was your sister or something. You look like hell, man."

The younger doctor tried to shrug it off. "Nah, just...a long case is all."

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't call in Dan or Rick."

Dan and Rick with other orthopedic surgeons in the hospital. Given Maggie's extensive injuries to both her legs and arm, Jason probably could have used the help, but the thought honestly never occurred to him. In his mind it was smoothing that he needed to handle himself. In his specialty, he didn't trust anyone else to do it.

"I'll finish my dictation. Page me if you need anything else."

Jason nodded and offered a small, grateful smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Allen."

Craft offered him one last pat on the back and went down the hall.

Jason made his way to the locker room, pulling his phone from his pocket when he was inside. Flipping it open and turning it on, he let his head hit the locker with a soft thud and a clang of metal, staring down at the screen that was held between him and the doors.

Thirty-seven missed calls and they were all from Ratchet.

He hit send to the mech's personal contacting number and waited. He answered on the first ring.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, human."

"Yeah, I know."

"I am on my way. You will take time off. If you do not sign for your time off I will drive in there and do it for you."

Ratchet's dubbed 'mother hen' tone actually pleasant to hear. "You know you can't do that."

"…It doesn't mean I don't want to."

"I'll take my vacation," the doctor assured (probably for the hundredth time…not an exaggeration). "I promise. I just can't right now."

"Give me one good reason."

Jason thought back on Maggie, battered, bruised, and broken in the OR. He thought about how he had run a blade against her skin, how he tried to force her broken bones back together. He had done that to a _friend_. He released a shuddering sigh as his eyes slipped shut.

Multiple ribs were broken and one managed to puncture her right lung. Her legs had sustained a lot of damage being trapped under the dashboard. Her left arm was broken near the elbow, her collar bone snapped, and her shoulder had been dislocated. Thank God it wasn't looking like the brain edema was not as acute as originally thought, but it was still a concern. If any monitoring lapse and the swelling were to get worse, it could lead to permanent brain damage and even death.

Jason couldn't even say if Maggie would wake up any time soon.

"Jason?" Ratchet asked, his voice growing anxious. "What's the matter?"

"It's Maggie," Jason said hoarsely. "She was attacked, Ratch. I just got out of surgery."

Ratchet was silent.

"I don't know who it was, but the eye-witnesses said that it was a giant robot. It picked up her car, with her in it, and crushed it."

"Is she alive?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes, she's alive," Jason answered. Sitting down on the bench he leaned forward, running a hand over his head. "But she's still critical. She's being taken to the ICU now. I don't know when she'll wake up. I…I had to do it. I…couldn't trust anyone else to do it."

Neither of them were going to get into the ethical and moral issues with Jason operating on a close friend and technical co-worker.  
"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call anyone. It'll all happened pretty fast."

"Understood," Ratchet said. "I don't know if I should notify her family," Jason said, and added, much more softly, "and I don't know how we're going to tell Sunny."  
"I will talk to Sunstreaker," Ratchet replied quickly. "As for her family…"

"I'm pretty sure they all still live in Australia," Jason said. "I won't call them yet."

"Alright."

"I'll call you with any updates."

"As will I."

Jason sighed again, his eyes slipping shut tiredly. "And Ratchet?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you when you got back. I know that—"

"Do not trouble yourself over it," Ratchet said kindly. "I will talk to you later."

"Okay."

Snapping his phone shut Jason sighed, yet again, absently noting that he was doing that a lot more than usual lately. He stood quickly, intending to keep a close eye on Maggie. As he rose, his vision swarmed and his world went sideways as a dull throb beat behind his eyes and in his temples.

"Not again," he pleaded, his voice mixed with dread and annoyance.

He dropped to his knees. His peripheral vision went out first and he felt himself lurching forward. He tired to put a hand out to stop himself, but his arm collapsed under his weight and he hit the cold ground with a thud and he didn't get up.

* * *

Will entered his home as quietly as he could, leaving Ironhide to idle on the driveway. He went down the hall, his daughter's room was first on the left, but from the doorway he could immediately see that she wasn't in her crib. Panic swelled in his chest. Rushing further down the hall, he threw open the door to his and Sarah's room, mouth opened, ready to shout, but stopped at what he saw.

Sarah was lying fast asleep with Annabelle beside her. The woman's arm was draped protectively over their child. The pillows were piled along the edge of the bed to keep the baby from rolling away and off the bed. Will inhaled a shaky breath and staggered back into the doorframe, relief evident in his posture.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he walked towards the bed. Moving the pillows, he slipped easily onto the bed beside Annabelle, facing his wife and just stared at her for a moment. Reaching out, he traced his calloused, war worn fingers across Sarah's cheeks. Her blue eyes slid open groggily as she leaned into it. A smile came to her face and Will reveled in the fact that their daughter had not only inherited her eyes and hair, but her smile as well, but the situation was far too grim for him to stay in this moment for much longer.

Sarah seemed to realize that something was wrong, her smile falling into a concerned expression as she studied her husband's face in the dim moonlight.  
"What happened?" she asked softly.

"We need to go," Will whispered back. "We're going to stay on base for a while."

Sarah's lips were pursed together. "Can I ask why?"

Will's eyes closed for a moment. Taking a breath he said, "Sam was taken by the Decepticons."

Sarah's eyes widened considerably. "Oh, God. Why? When?"

Will idly thought how odd it was that it had to take telling Sarah that Sam was kidnapped made it more real for him. "I'll explain on the way," he said. "Pack everything you think we'll need. I'll pack for Annabelle."

Sarah clearly wanted all of the answers now, but she wouldn't press until they were safely with Ironhide. She nodded and got out of bed, careful not to disturb Annabelle. Once out of bed she rushed to the closet and started throwing clothes into duffle bags. Will watched his wife for a moment, seeing her frantic motions worriedly. Getting out of bed he approached her.

"Sarah."

"What?" she snapped.

"Sarah."

"What, Will?" she hissed. "What?"

He pulled her to him, tightly holding her against his chest. Sarah didn't fight it even though she had looked as though she would have. For a moment she was still. Then her arms came up around him and squeezed. Taking just a few precious seconds, Will and Sarah took comfort in each other's arms, something they hardly had time for anymore. Annabelle's soft whine drew her parent's attention. Wiggling on the bed she tried to roll over.

Sarah sighed. "You better start packing. Knowing Ironhide he'll be getting impatient soon."

Will smiled gently, leaning to kiss Sarah's forehead. "Be right back."

Will went to the bed and scooped up his daughter who smiled upon seeing the shadowed form of her father. Heading to his daughter's room, Will set her in her crib giving her Bobo, her stuffed lamb which she snuggled with. While Will went about the room packing Annabelle's essentials, she pulled herself up in her crib clutching Bobo watching. When he tripped over her lawn mower she giggled.

"You would think that's funny," he said. "I'm going to start supervising your visits with Ironhide."

Annabelle giggled again and bounced in her crib, holding tightly on to the bars and Bobo. Will made a point to stop and tickle her belly, but as he continued, she became disinterested and played with Bobo, humming and cooing to herself.

With numerous bags on his shoulder, being a very prepared Dad, he picked up his daughter out of her crib. She made the "I'm-gonna-start-crying-now" sound when she dropped Bobo, which Will quickly snatched from the carpet, handing it to her. As he left the room, Sarah came out of theirs with two large duffle bags.  
The tailgate went down as soon as Ironhide saw the couple. Passing Annabelle to her mother, Will packed the bags before going back into the house for a contraption that Ironhide huffed irritably at.

"I hate that thing," he grumbled.

Annabelle squealed excitedly at the disembodied voice leaning towards the truck, arms extended. Sarah stepped closer so the baby could touch the warm metal, smiling when the truck shifted into the little hands.

The back door popped open and Will proceeded to put the car seat into place. Stepping again to let Sarah put Annabelle inside, clutching Bobo tightly, looking just as annoyed as Ironhide felt about the contraption. As Sarah fussed over the buckles, trying to figure them out, Annabelle voice her displeasure and struggled in the seat.

"What me to do it?" Will offered.

"I can do it," Sarah countered.

"If you don't hurry up I'm going to do it," Ironhide growled.

Annabelle starting wailing.

"Well if you didn't keep breaking them I'd actually remember how the straps work," Sarah stated.

"Well, if you stopped leaving them in here I wouldn't break them."

Will took a step back.

"Don't even start with me, Ironhide," Sarah said, her voice deadly soft, "or you'll wake up with a new, very pink paint job."

Ironhide grumbled about temperamental females and Sarah finally got the infant strapped in. "Took you long enough,' the mech said.

"That's it!" Sarah said tossing her arms up. "When I'm through with you, they'll be calling you Pinkhide."

"I'd like to see you try," Ironhide challenged.

"Okay," Will interrupted. "Time to go."

Sarah still smacked the hood of the truck as she walked around to the passenger side. Will laughed uneasily as he climbed into the driver seat. As soon as Sarah was in next to him, she smacked his arm. Ironhide and Annabelle laughed as his high pitched yelp and 'what did I do?' He would tell Sarah, but Ironhide was very good at being an outlet for nervous energy. He'd thank him later when Sarah wasn't around.

* * *

When Peyton returned to the base with Kale and Optimus, plus a majority of Ratchet's equipment packed in a trailer, Peyton said she had to go to the Mission City crime lab. Since Optimus had recently been "rejected" as evidence he no longer had to worry about being tailed by law enforcement and he was able to drive Peyton to where she needed to be.

"Okay," she said, grabbing her bag from the floor, "you should head back to base."

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"I'll be fine," she stated, trying the door, frowning as it stayed locked. "I'll have a police escort."

"That's not enough."

"Optimus," she said, more gently then she thought she could, "I'll be fine. I don't think it would look good if I drove a semi to a crime scene, plus, they'll need you at the base. Keep an eye on Bee."

Optimus hummed understandingly. Keeping an eye on Bumblebee was something that held high priority. With Sam's kidnapping, the scout was probably itching to take off at the first chance he got to find him.

Peyton tried the door again, but it was still locked. "Optimus…"

"I do not think I have to tell you to be careful, but I will anyways," he quoted. "Be careful. Keep a watchful eye."

"I will," she assured. When she tried the door this time it popped open. Hoping out she threw her bag over her shoulder. "I'll call you as soon as I come up with anything. Do the same?"

"I will."

Optimus was still hesitant to drive off, only doing so when she was inside the building. She walked down the hall, subconsciously noting all the differences between the lab in Las Vegas versus this one. For one, the Mission City lab was a lot bigger, definitely roomier. Fiddling with her visitor's pass she got at the front desk she had been told to head to the supervisor's office, who would assign her a team she would lead. She had never been in a leadership position, at least not like this, before. Knocking on the door, marked by the designation and name she had been given. Through the glass she could make out the form of a tall man sitting at a desk over stacks of papers and folders. Upon a call of 'come in' Peyton opened the door and entered the room. The man didn't even look up. Peyton was questioning Jeffery's statement about not receiving full cooperation. The man was thin with thin graying hair with an ever growing bald spot on the crown on his head. Frowning, Peyton cleared her throat.

"I know your there," he said. "No need for that."

Peyton resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He looked up at her (finally) his dark eyes holding annoyance. "You must be Peyton Callaghan."

"Yes, sir," she said. "You must be Henry Nichols."

He grinned, but there was no humor in it. "That's what it says on the door."

At her side, Peyton's hands formed fists. Keep it respectful, she mentally encouraged. "You know," he began, rising from his desk, "it's not everyday that I get a call from the Secretary of Defense and a fax from the President of the United States telling me that they have their private CSI coming you use my lab."  
Peyton blinked. She knew that she had the full backing of the government to use the lab without hindrance, but being called a 'private CSI.' Sounded fancy.  
Softly, she said, "I'm sure it isn't."

He tapped the surface of his desk with his index finger, looking intrigued. "You plan on filling me in on what's going on?"

Peyton swallowed, trying to think how she could emulate authority like that of a government agent. Chin held high she thought about all the movies she had seen involving secret agents, like Mission: Impossible, Bourne Identity, hell, even Men In Black. "The…particulars of the case are classified, but I will say that involves the abduction of a boy."

An eerie grin came to his face as he walked around the desk. "An abduction? A kidnapping is classified? What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

Peyton countered the look. "I don't take you for a idiot at all. I'm only allowed to disclose what I have been authorized to by the President of the United States." Man, she really hoped he bought this.

"So you want to take my team and have them not know what they are looking for?"

Peyton stepped forward. "This is all on a need to know basis," she said. "They will know whatever is deemed necessary in order for us to find this kid."  
"And what is that?"

She fell silent, glaring at the tall, skinny man with plain annoyance. She wasn't sure what the President had fazed him or what Keller had said to him over the phone, but obviously it wasn't much.

"You know what," she began fiercely, "I don't have time for your bitching. I have a scene to process and the longer you make me wait the bigger the gap between me and the kidnappers grows. I don't care if you're pissed because you don't know what's going on, because your hands are tied. Now, give me a kit and my team and I'll be on my way."

The look on this face was scathing. "You can't just—"

"Actually, I believe you received a fax saying that yes, indeed, I can."

The man's jaw was clenched tightly, his teeth were probably grinding.

"Look, Dr. Nichols, your reputation precedes you," she began, more gently. "I have a lot of respect for you." She tried to smile. "Jeffery may have mentioned you a few times.

Nichols looked confused. "Jeffery Ellis?"

Peyton nodded. "I don't want to be disrespectful but I really need to get going. Will you please help me?"

Nichols stared at her for a long moment and Peyton thought that he wouldn't give in. But when the man sighed and walked passed her, gesturing with a flick of his wrist for her to follow him, hope swelled. Peyton stayed a few paces behind him as he led her down the hall to the break-room. Upon walking in and seeing the three people sitting with coffee and chatting away she felt a little homesick, missing the way that he team would talk and joke during their breaks. There were two men and one woman, all older than her.

"Ms. Callaghan, this is my graveyard shift," Nichols said. "Guys, this is Peyton Callaghan from Las Vegas."

"Sin City," one of the men exclaimed, his voice thick with a southern accent. "What's it like working there?"

Peyton found herself grinning. "Sinful."

The man nodded approvingly. "Nice."

The woman that sat between the two guys stared at her, looking curious and suspicious. She had short chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. She was probably in her early thirties. "So what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Ms. Callaghan," Nichols began, sending the brunette a warning stare, "is here on behalf of the government investigating a kidnapping."

The second man, a tall man with dark and uniquely green eyes, rose from his seat to get more coffee looking skeptical. "The government's looking into kidnappings now?"

"This is a special case," Peyton replied.

"Who was kidnapped?" the first man asked.

"A boy," she replied. "Seventeen years old."

"What's so special about him? Is he the son of a senator or something?"

Peyton shifted on her feet. "Or something."

"So what do you need with us?" the woman asked.

"You three will be helping Ms. Callaghan process the scene from the boy was taken," Nichols explained.

"Wait," the first guy said again, his dark eyes confused, "doesn't the government have, like, secret special crime scene investigators for this? Why us?"

"You are the closest to the scene," Peyton said. "And we need to move fast."

"Wow," the guy said again, leaning back in his chair. "I feel special now."

"So do we have to answer to you?" the woman asked.

Peyton couldn't tell if the woman just didn't trust easily or just didn't like her. "Yes, I'll be the leading CSI on this."

The woman looked less then thrilled.

Nichols coughed over the awkwardness. "Right, I guess we should make some introductions, huh?" He gestured to the woman. "Ms. Callaghan, this is Katherine Marshal," he pointed to the man getting coffee, who waved easily, "Troy Osmond and Nick Rodgers."

The southern guy looked her up and down appreciatively with an easy smile. "Nice to meet you Ms. Callaghan," he said.

Peyton was blind to his looks, but she still smiled. "It's nice to meet all of you as well. I just wish it was under better circumstances. And please, call me Peyton."

"So," Katherine said, getting to her feet, "I guess we'll ask questions on the way over."

"Yeah," Peyton nodded. "Get your equipment and let's go."

"I'm driving," Nick announced.

"You always drive," Troy said, following the man out the door.

Katherine rolled her eyes and followed them out.

Peyton smiled. There were some similarities between Katherine, Troy, and Nick and Grant, Kelly, and Carter. Frowning for a split second she shook them out of her mind. She didn't have time for reminiscing.

Looking up at Nichols, she smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

Nichols still looked rather put out, but he nodded nonetheless. "Good luck."

* * *

When Sunny got an incoming call from Ratchet he was surprised, but vowed that even if was delivering a message from Optimus for them to return to the air base he wouldn't go until Maggie was back. Glen was pacing after having tried Maggie's cell multiple times, hell so did Sides, but neither received an answer.

Opening the link to Ratchet Sunny said, "What is it?"

"…Sunstreaker."

Sunny couldn't even begin to describe how much the tone of Ratchet's voice unnerved him. "What happened?"

"I just got off the phone with Jason," the medic said. "Maggie is in the hospital."

Sunny felt his spark sink. "…Why?"

"She was attacked, Sunstreaker, by the Decepticons. We don't know who yet. The humans are calling it a car accident on Henderson Avenue."

Sunny felt his knees shake, but he was in too much shock to realize that he was actually using the use the wall of the adjacent building to keep himself from collapsing. He and Sides had driven right past the accident on their way to the apartment. What if he had driven right past Maggie? The ache in his spark seem to think so.  
"Sunny?" Sides asked softly, obviously worried.

"She's alive," Ratchet explained further, "but her injuries are severe. You should head over there now."

Sunny felt his head nodding, then realized that ratchet wouldn't be able to see that and said. "I'll go right now."

"Sunny," Ratchet asked, "are you alright?"

"Sunstreaker?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm going now."

"You don't sound—"

Sunny cut off the link before the medic could finish. Maggie was hurt because he hadn't been there to protect her. The accident on Henderson Avenue; he drove right past it. Rage filled every circuit in his body and he vaguely recalled never being this angry before in his very lone existence.

His optics flickered to his brother who looked so naïvely confused. This only fueled his anger and for the first time ever he actually hated his brother.  
"I told you to watch her," he seethed. "You promised me you would watch her!"

Sideswipe was surprised when his twin leapt at him, knocking him into the apartment building. He could hear the startled screams of the occupants as the building shook. "Sunny, stop!" he cried. What's going on? Is Maggie okay? What happened?"

"This is your fault!" Sunny yelled in his face.

Glen, at their feet, stared up with fear in his wide eyes. "Calm down, man!" Sunny refuted this by shoving his brother further into the building. The brick cracked and chipped. "Just calm down!"

"SHUT UP, HUMAN!" Sunny roared, rounding on Glen. "You just had to stuff your fat mouth, didn't you? Why did you send Maggie, you lazy maggot!"

And that's where Sides drew the line, when it looked like his brother was ready to stomp Glen into the pavement. Shoving Sunny away from his contact, Sideswipe stepped in front of him protectively. "That's enough, Sunstrekaer!" he shouted. "You need to tell us what happened."

"Maggie was attacked," Sunstreaker replied, his tone dark with hate. "She was attacked and you weren't there."

Glen staggered back. "Attacked?"

Sideswipe looked utterly distraught. "Primus…"

Sideswipe didn't try to stop his brother from leaping at him again and let him knock him to the ground. The force of the fall sent Glen rolling backwards against the wall of the apartment building. Sides wasn't surprised when he looked up to find a charging canon in his face, Sunny face seething behind his.

Sides could hear Glen pleading with Sunny to stop as the disorientated him tried to get back to his feet. Sides lifted a hand and placed it between Sunny and Glen and Sunny entertained the idea of squashing Glen in front of his guardian. He wanted the life of the Decepticon that hurt his Maggie. He wanted to rip the bastards spark from his chest, hold it in front of him and watch the light go out in their optics. But more then anything he wanted Maggie. He wanted to see her alive, unwilling to believe it entirely until he saw her for himself.

Retracting his canon he transformed into his alternate mode and sped out of the alley.

Neither Glen nor Sideswipe tried to stop him.

* * *

A/N: So...been a while. Nothing much changed from this chapter either. Sorry for the long wait for an update. Thing is, I live at work. Never a dull day/night in the operating room. Thanks for sticking with me!

Please Review!

-Ray


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